


Object Permanence

by ScalaSpiral



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Best Friends, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Inaccurate Depictions of the Artistic Process, Post-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-03-26 23:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13868040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScalaSpiral/pseuds/ScalaSpiral
Summary: It’s the summer after her stint as a Phantom Thief, and Futaba has been spending way too much time with her favorite local art weirdo. That’s the best explanation she can think of for why she’s started finding itcutewhen he rambles about art andsoothingwhen she watches him sketch. Having actual feelings for him would be distracting and inconvenient, so she won’t do that. That’s how it works… right?





	1. Shared Workspace

FUTABA: inari

FUTABA: inari 

FUTABA: inari inari

FUTABA: come look at this video. it’s so cute.

FUTABA: i can tell you’re ignoring me

YUSUKE: I most certainly am not.

FUTABA: i can see when you’re ignoring your phone

YUSUKE: I’m afraid my attention is completely occupied with this drawing.

FUTABA: you are sitting across from me!

FUTABA: i can see when you put down your sketchbook to text me back!

FUTABA: now stop being a huge pain and WATCH THIS CAT VIDEO

YUSUKE: Would you mind holding that expression while I commit it to paper?

FUTABA: omg stop framing my face

“Are you kids seriously texting each other instead of talking?” Sojiro commented from his place behind the counter, shaking his head.

It was nearing the end of summer break, and the weather was oppressively hot. Futaba’s laptop, phone, DS, headphones, gaming mouse, and manga were occupying every square inch of the table that hadn’t been absorbed by Yusuke’s art supplies.

It had been weeks since they had left Ren behind at his — not his home, his home was obviously here, at his _parents’_ house. It had been weeks since Futaba watched him waving from the window of the van, feeling the gentle ache of leaving behind her key item. Morgana had stayed with him. _Don’t split the party_ , Futaba thought to herself at the time, but they had no choice.

She had been terrified that Ren’s departure meant his friends — _their_ friends — would scatter and she’d be left all alone again, and she was quietly grateful when that turned out to not be the case. Ann in particular made a point of getting them all together at least once a week, and the rest of them had frequently dropped by Leblanc, or texted Futaba with invitations to hang out. She’d spent many an hour at the arcade with Ryuji, watching movies with Makoto or having lunch with Haru. It was by far the best summer vacation she had ever had.

Yusuke in particular had basically taken up residence in Leblanc. At first he dropped by with his usual sketchbook, explaining that it was unbearably stuffy in the Kosei dorms and besides, he could use a good cup of coffee. Then he started bringing canvases. And pastels. And paints. And art books. And increasingly elaborate projects that he would spread across half the counter. Finally, Sojiro decided it was time to establish some rules: no paint, his projects could only occupy a single table, and he had to share that table with Futaba, so there was actual room for non-Phantom Thieves in the cafe.

The first day of this arrangement… may have involved a lot of bickering. Futaba stealing one of Yusuke’s pastels to draw an actual line down the table was what finally got Sojiro to temporarily kick them both out. She felt kind of bad about that and called for a truce the way she always did: by offering to buy food for him. 

The very next day they were quietly sharing a table as though that had always been their custom. Sojiro seemed mildly flummoxed and ultimately decided not to say anything.

She’d never admit it, but she actually kind of liked this arrangement. She loved her friends, but generally their idea of hanging out involved actual socializing, which had a tendency to drain her batteries even if she was enjoying herself. Inari, on the other hand, seemed content to sit across from her and occupy himself for hours on end, making no sound but the soft scratch of pencil and the rustle of paper.

Well, sometimes. Futaba looked up as he made a frustrated groan, tossing down his pencil and dramatically running his hand through his hair. She watched with curiosity as he began methodically tearing his latest sketch into tiny pieces. “What did that innocent drawing do to you?”

“It was an utter affront to the eyes and now it will never have existed.”

He finished making his impromptu confetti and brushed the bits of paper into a neat little pile to the side, immediately getting to work on a fresh piece. 

Futaba found herself watching his practiced hand dance across his sketchbook, creating a miniature landscape from a blank page. 

There was something really nice about taking a few quiet moments to watch him draw. Futaba suddenly felt wistful. She wished summer vacation weren’t ending soon.

Yusuke must have sensed her gaze, because he was looking at her with mild concern. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no,” she said, her voice more quavery than she expected. “Hey, I want to see that when you’re done!”

“So you shall, assuming this attempt doesn’t also result in an irredeemable disaster.” Yusuke smiled serenely and returned to his work.

She felt so sad all of a sudden, and couldn’t understand why.

A few minutes later, Yusuke slapped a page in front of her computer screen. “You wanted to see this, correct?”

“Inari! My game!” She took the drawing — it wasn’t actually the landscape he had been trying to perfect, but a quick sketch of herself, deeply focused on her laptop screen. 

“I warned you I intended to capture your expression.”

“You’re so weird, Inari.”

—

Later that evening, Futaba was dipping a fry into a mix of ketchup and mayo. She hadn’t been able to shake the melancholy feeling from earlier and she thought junk food might help, so she was splitting a large order of fries with Inari at Big Bang. Splitting any food with Inari was a dangerous proposition since he had a tendency to forget the “sharing” aspect and inhale whatever was in front of him, but seeing the look on his face if she went to get food without him was much worse. Besides, they were in the middle of an important discussion.

“…so if we were in a simulation,” she was saying, “we’d have no way of knowing that. The whole thing could just suddenly shut down, or reset, and we’d effectively be dead and wouldn’t know.”

Inari looked thoughtful. “I don’t think I agree. There would surely be some way to tell the difference between reality and simulation. If nothing else, I expect some people could feel the difference.” One thing that was nice about Inari was that you could have meandering pseudo-philosophical conversations with him and he would take it seriously.

“What about the people in the Metaverse, though? They were in a fake cognitive world and I don’t think any of them were able to tell.”

“They weren’t actually people, though, just cognitions. I don’t think they were capable of that kind of thought. Actual people are quite different.”

“I guess,” she said, aggressively dunking a fry.

Inari was looking at her with some concern. “You seem upset. I’m guessing this doesn’t have to do with being trapped inside a simulation?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just — I’m starting school soon.”

“Ah, I see. It’s been some time since you’ve attended school.”

“What if — I don’t know. I’m not even sure what I’m worried about. I’ve gotten better at handling crowds, Ann and Ryuji will be there, and I’ve never had a problem with schoolwork. It should be fine, right?”

“There’s no reason to expect it wouldn’t be.”

“Why am I so wound up about it then?”

Inari made a sweeping dramatic gesture. “Change. Uncertainty. The unknown. Even a change that is fully positive, one that you’re looking forward to, can inspire dread. If you’ll recall, we fought our way through an entire subterranean dungeon that was born of humanity’s fear of change.”

“Fear of change, yeah, maybe. You’re probably right.” She went to take another fry only to realize Inari had finished them off. Honestly, that took longer than usual; he must have been sufficiently distracted by the conversation. “What am I supposed to do about fear of change, though?”

Inari shrugged. “Accept it. It takes time.” 

She made a face. “How about you? How do you feel about going back to school?”

“Well, school is not exactly a change for me… to be honest, I’ve always generally enjoyed school.” Futaba had been surprised to learn a while back that not only did Inari excel in all his art courses, but also maintained near perfect grades. He explained it was because Madarame would punish him if he didn’t, but Futaba suspected it was a mix of that and Inari being naturally pretty smart and a perfectionist to boot. 

Futaba could see the wheels turning in his head. He opened his mouth as though he were going to say something, then stopped. After a long moment… “How about going to Akihabara after this?”

“You’re suggesting Akihabara? The last time we were there you called it a commercial wasteland.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely a commercial wasteland, but you clearly need some sort of distraction from your current malaise.”

“Man, I must have really been a downer today if you’re taking that kind of drastic measure to cheer me up. I accept, of course.”

So they spent the rest of the afternoon at Akihabara, Futaba spending way too much money trying to get an adorable plush bunny out of a crane machine that obviously wasn’t cooperating. She felt a little better, but the dread was still there, lapping just at the edges of her thoughts.


	2. Inventory Check

Futaba woke up on a hard floor.

Everything seemed to swirl around her as she tried to get her bearings. Pure panic gripped her heart as she realized where she was — right back in her uncle’s house as though none of the past three years had ever happened. As though the Phantom Thieves had been nothing more than a happy delusion.

Her uncle glared at her from where he sat on the couch, watching TV. “You should consider yourself lucky to have me. It’s not as though anyone else wants to take care of you.”

She began to hyperventilate as the panic rose within her…

Futaba woke up in her own comfortable bed, in her room at Sojiro’s house, surrounded by glow-in-the-dark stars and general clutter. She gripped a plush cat with white knuckles as she fought down her anxiety, frantically reminding herself that she was home, she was safe, and her days at her uncle’s house were nothing more than an unpleasant memory.

She had an inventory check she did whenever she woke up in a panic and needed to reassure herself that her friends still existed. First she grabbed her phone, checking her contacts (everyone accounted for), the group chat (just how she had last seen it), and her photos (the most recent batch was mostly from the gang getting burgers together two days ago). Once she was satisfied with their continued digital presence, she checked off all the physical items related to them, a list that was starting to get impractically long.

Plush cat that Ren won for her at the arcade. Throw blanket knitted by Haru. Ann picked out that hat for her — there were more Ann-bought and Ann-picked accessories in the closet, too. Large Gundam model, a present from Ren. Manga borrowed from Ryuji. Those capsule toys were also mostly from Ryuji. Sketches and various bits of art from Inari, swallowing up an increasing amount of wall space. Makoto had recently loaded her up with study guides and other school things, which she had kind of dumped in the corner and was trying not to think about. Makoto had also given her that adorable stuffed Pikachu with glasses. And of course her calling card was taped carefully to the back of the door.

Having her heart stolen last year had helped her in ways she still wasn’t able to fully comprehend or articulate. Sometimes it seemed like just yesterday she had been fully prepared to die alone in this room, never speaking to anyone but Sojiro. Practically overnight she had a bustling social life and a camera roll full of her friends, like she’d used a cheat code that leveled her from 1 to 99 in an instant. She’d never be able to repay Ren and the others for what they had done, but thankfully they didn’t expect her to.

After that, everything had happened so fast. They were framed for murder. Ren was captured and nearly died. They fought a god on Christmas Eve. Ren went to jail and was released. And then they had to say goodbye to their beloved leader.

She kind of just wished time would _slow down_ for a little bit.

She still got nightmares sometimes, especially when she was stressed. Inari had thought it was just fear of change, and he might be right, but she wished she could pin it down a little more. A problem that couldn’t be solved except through patience was difficult for her to accept. Futaba had never been an especially patient person.

Plus, she had a nagging feeling that there was something else she was missing about the whole situation.

She considered texting Ren, but that was industrial-strength anxiety dissipation, and her panic was already fading. She even more briefly considered pelting Inari with inane memes and terrible fanart but that was always something she could do in the morning.

Futaba buried her head in her pillow and tried unsuccessfully to get back to sleep.

—

“Do you think that’s weird?” Futaba asked Ryuji as they prepared to play a drumming game. Futaba loved rhythm games, and was fairly good at them. Ryuji made an attempt.

“What, that you don’t want summer vacation to be over? Uh… _no_? Who the hell wants to go back to school? ‘Cept Makoto.”

“Not just going back to school though. I mean like… time is moving too fast.” The song started up and they both turned their attention to it, Futaba methodically tapping out the song as Ryuji flailed wildly.

“I think I getcha,” Ryuji said as the song ended and their scores displayed. “A whole lot’s happened since… you know.” He had gotten better about loudly mentioning the Phantom Thieves in public, though it was a little late for it to seriously matter. “I mean a whole lot’s happened to me and it ain’t even half of what’s happened to you. T’be honest, I don’t know how you keep it together. If I were you, I’d be like… a basketcase.”

“I am kind of a basketcase, though.”

“Nah, you’re not. Really. Just ‘cause you got some issues… everyone’s got issues, man. Not wanting things to change too much… yeah, I know. I miss Ren.”

“Me too.”

They stood in pensive silence for a minute before Futaba’s phone started buzzing.

YUSUKE: I don’t understand how or why you keep finding pictures of this nature.

FUTABA: the internet is a magical place, inari

YUSUKE: The pictures’ names identify them as hedgehogs but they are all ill-proportioned, multicolored blobs with spikes.

YUSUKE: At any rate, I have been blinded by their awfulness, and my career as an artist is over. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.

FUTABA: don’t worry, i’m sure we can find an exciting new career for you

FUTABA: like you could be one of those living statue guys outside the subway station

YUSUKE: Truthfully, I have considered it.

YUSUKE: I am unsure that the amount of money they acquire through busking offsets the cost of the metallic stage makeup they must wear each day.

FUTABA: …that’s your reasoning for not being a living statue guy?

YUSUKE: Setting aside the discussion of my career options, it seems that I’ve come to an impasse with my current project.

YUSUKE: There is a historical drama playing at the movie theater that I would like to see.

YUSUKE: I thought you might be interested.

FUTABA: oh man does it have completely ridiculous wigs like the last one

YUSUKE: Perhaps.

FUTABA: i’m in

FUTABA: wait no, i’m at the arcade with ryuji

Futaba looked up to see Ryuji swearing profusely at a game of Gun About he had apparently started while she was occupied with texting. 

YUSUKE: I see.

FUTABA: tomorrow though?

YUSUKE: That would be acceptable.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. It wasn’t as though she didn’t do things with Inari all the time, but for some reason seeing a dumb movie with him seemed really good right now.

“Futaba, you want in the next game?” Ryuji was holding a fake plastic gun out to her.

She grabbed the gun and struck a pose, grinning. “I am ready!”


	3. Dating Option

It was the last day before summer vacation, and Futaba felt mildly like death. She’d had nightmares again and it had taken her forever to get back to sleep. Normally, she would spend a day like that hiding in her room or at her usual spot in Leblanc, but today all of her friends were arriving to go to the beach, so that wasn’t really an option. Once school started, they would have far less chances to hang out, and it was increasingly rare to get some of Makoto’s or Haru’s time.

Really, if she could just get some coffee and breakfast before having to talk to anyone she’d be fine. Probably. 

Hmm…

FUTABA: inari hey

YUSUKE: Hello, Futaba.

FUTABA: are you at leblanc

YUSUKE: Yes.

FUTABA: who else is there

YUSUKE: Boss and an older couple. Our friends aren’t here yet. Why?

FUTABA: because i want coffee but i don’t want to talk to anyone

YUSUKE: You’re talking to me, though.

FUTABA: doesn’t count

YUSUKE: I am unsure whether I should be flattered or insulted.

FUTABA: both obviously

FUTABA: see you in a few minutes

She put her phone away, made herself look as reasonable as possible given the circumstances, and headed down the street to Leblanc.

When she entered the cafe, Sojiro was in the back washing something up. Inari was sitting at their usual table with his ever-present sketchbook. A freshly made cup of coffee and a hot plate of curry were sitting neatly across from him. He must have asked Sojiro to get breakfast ready for her. 

She slid into the booth and began devouring her breakfast, grateful that Inari was actually useful for once. She made a mental note to buy some snacks for him next time she went to the convenience store. He gave her a slight nod before turning his attention back to the day’s project, which appeared to be a sketch in the style of a woodblock print, all intricate dark lines. 

Futaba watched as he quickly drew dozens of tiny leaves on what looked like a willow tree. His drawing hand was precise and methodical, his eyes intense and focused. Futaba found, watching him, she was having an emotion she couldn’t place at all. Like she was suddenly aware of her own heartbeat.

The bell ringing above Leblanc’s door startled Futaba out of her contemplation. Haru waved cheerfully and sat down next to Futaba, who had thankfully inhaled enough coffee to make her feel like a person again. “Hello, Futaba, Yusuke! Are you ready for the beach?” 

Futaba made a vaguely approving noise. Yusuke looked up from his drawing, startled, as though he just realized Haru was there. Haru giggled. “Are you two even awake yet?”

Ann burst into the cafe before Futaba could respond, closely followed by Ryuji. Ann plopped down next to Yusuke, while Ryuji slapped his hands on the table and yelled “BEACH DAY!” 

Sojiro, who had emerged from the back, gave him a disapproving look. “Could you be any louder?”

“Oh, sorry Boss. Beach day,” he said, much quieter.

Ann was typing into her phone. “Makoto says she’ll be here in ten minutes. Is everyone ready to go?” Futaba downed the rest of her coffee and prepared herself for a busy day.

—

“What are you looking at, Haru?” asked Ann. “Ooh, I see. Very nice.” 

Futaba was taking a break from the water, hanging out under an umbrella with Ann and Haru. Yusuke was nearby, sitting on the beach with his sketchbook, and Makoto and Ryuji were splashing in the waves.

Futaba turned around to see what the other two girls were looking at — a very attractive boy, probably a few years older than them. He had lean muscle in all the right places and great hair to boot. She could understand the appeal.

“Is that your type, Haru?” Ann teased. 

“Perhaps that’s one of my types,” Haru said with a mischievous smile. “What do you think, Futaba?”

“Not bad,” she answered truthfully. “You should go for it!”

“I couldn’t possibly! I have to think of my reputation,” she joked, fetching a drink from their cooler. “How about you, Ann? Any cute girls here?”

Ann had come out to the group back in the spring, with uncharacteristic shyness. The Thieves’ response had been unequivocal support mixed with various offers to matchmake her with various other girls in the school. (The exception had been Morgana, who needed to be consoled in private later.) Since then she had dropped all shyness about the topic, and was now carefully scanning the beach for an answer to Haru’s question. “Ehh, not really. That one in the light blue one piece is fine I guess.”

“Well, how about you, Futaba? What kind of boys do you like?”

“Me?” Futaba nearly dropped her ice cream bar in her lap. “I… don’t know. Does it matter?”

Ann grinned. “Now that you’re going to school, you’re going to meet all kinds of new boys. I need to know what you’re looking for so I can hook you up with a cute boyfriend! Or a girlfriend, if you’d rather…”

“A boyfriend?!” The idea wasn’t really _bad_ , just… intimidating. “Don’t you think I need to level up a few more times before I’m ready for that?”

“It’s like learning to swim! Sometimes you just need to be thrown in the water to learn.”

“Sometimes I try that in a video game. Like, attack something way too powerful just to see if I can. You know what usually happens? _I die._ ”

“You won’t die from this. Promise! I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. I’m just curious what kind of boy you’d be interested in!”

“Hmm, well…” She honestly haven’t given the idea that much thought. It wasn’t like she’d had many chances to meet boys. She’d had that crush on Ren last year, but he started dating Makoto not long after they met, and she’d gotten over it pretty quickly. She kind of suspected that everyone on her team had had a bit of a crush on Ren at some point, including the boys, so she wasn’t even sure how much that counted. Other than that, it’d been mostly crushes on fictional guys from anime. 

“I’d like a boy who’s smart and easy to talk to,” she said, finally. “Maybe just a little romantic, too? And nice eyes.”

“Smart and easy to talk to, huh? Like a guy who’s as nerdy as you? That’d be sooooo cute,” said Ann.

Haru looked like she was considering Futaba’s answer a little too intently, like she was plotting something. In fact, she was giving Futaba the same look she gave a Shadow during a hold-up, which was mildly disturbing. She hoped Haru wasn’t planning to set her up with some boy she didn’t know.

Maybe she’d find someone at school, like Ann seemed to think she would. She’d walk into Shujin and someone would have a big pink heart over his head indicating he’s a dating option. At least, that’s how she wished it worked.


	4. TLDR

The beach was a successful distraction from the impending doom of school the next day. Futaba went to bed with her brain full of waves and sand and her friends and didn’t have any nightmares, which meant she felt something approaching cheerful when she woke up the next morning. 

At least until the whole going-to-school thing ambushed her brain.

She put on the freshly washed school uniform that Sojiro had set out for her and looked at the girl in the mirror. She looked… different. Not herself. She added her headphones and a favorite hoodie. Little better.

She grabbed her school bag and headed out to Leblanc, which was occupied solely by Sojiro and a middle age man watching the news. “Sojiro! I need fuel before school!”

He smiled and put her usual curry and coffee on the counter. “When will you be heading off?”

“Ann’s picking me up soon. We decided to go in together today.”

“Good, I’m glad you have someone to go with.” Sojiro opened his mouth as though he were going to say something else, then closed it.

“I’m not sure about this whole school uniform thing,” Futaba said, tugging on her skirt. “Who decided we have to wear skirts, anyway?”

“Oh, traditional old men,” Sojiro chuckled. His voice hitched, and his eyes looked shiny in the morning light. “I’m so proud of you. You know that, right? I’m so proud of you, no matter what.”

Futaba felt her own tears welling up. “Dad…”

She ran around the counter to give him a hug.

—

School was loud. And crowded. And overwhelming. Ann squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Are you ready for this?” she asked gently.

“I don’t think I’m getting any _more_ ready for this, so… let’s go!” And with that they dove into the teenaged throngs.

Futaba was so focused on not flipping out that she barely noticed anything about the school. Ann was pointing out various rooms and features, but Futaba was only catching bits and pieces. She did make a note of the girls’ room, though. Bathrooms were good for hiding.

Before she knew it, they had arrived at Futaba’s homeroom. “Here we are! Are you gonna be okay?”

Futaba took a deep breath and reassured herself once again. She thought of Ren and the promise list and all the things she was able to do that she never thought she would. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. See you at lunch?”

“Definitely! I’m going to head to my class now. Good luck! We all believe in you!” And with that, Futaba was alone in the school hallway.

She turned and entered her homeroom, which was already full of groups of kids loudly discussing their summer vacations, bemoaning their return to school, making plans for later…

She took a desk in the farthest corner and put on her headphones to try and block out some of the noise. She was so on-edge that the usual -bzzt bzzt- of her phone receiving a text message nearly startled her out of her skin.

YUSUKE: How is the first day of class treating you?

FUTABA: inari help

FUTABA: it’s so loud, wtf 

FUTABA: is kosei that loud

YUSUKE: I suspect that any place filled to the brim with teenagers is loud.

FUTABA: fix it

YUSUKE: I am not sure how you intend for me to fix that.

FUTABA: you have a sword

YUSUKE: You know that outside of the Metaverse, my sword is nothing more than a toy.

YUSUKE: Also, I am fairly certain that murdering people for making noise is illegal.

FUTABA: yeah, or ryuji would be dead

YUSUKE: Indeed.

FUTABA: okay fine, you don’t need to kill anyone if you’re so worried about silly things like laws against murder

FUTABA: how is your weird art school

YUSUKE: My weird art school is much the same as it’s always been. 

YUSUKE: More importantly, I have found some inspiration for my next painting.

YUSUKE: It’s a study of…

Futaba knew that Inari was about to flood her phone with dozens of messages waxing poetic about his new project, so she figured she could just let him go and read it later. She switched to one of her other texts.

REN: It’s your first day of school right?

REN: I wish I could’ve been there to take you

REN: Shujin was awful but I miss you guys

FUTABA: i wish you could be here too, we all miss you

FUTABA: how’s your school

REN: About the same as when I left it. 

REN: One of my friends is trying to get me to join the kendo club but I’m pretty out of practice since I didn’t do any sports last year

Futaba knew that Ren had friends back home since he had mentioned them before, but the idea of him hanging out with a group of people that wasn’t the Phantom Thieves still seemed bizarre.

FUTABA: you should do it 

FUTABA. learn to beat people up outside the metaverse

FUTABA: you beat people with sticks, right? 

FUTABA: i don’t know how kendo works

REN: Close enough.

Text message status: Two from Makoto, nine from Inari.

MAKOTO: I hope your first day back at school is going well.

MAKOTO: Don’t answer this if class has started!

FUTABA: it hasn’t! and it’s ok so far, I guess

MAKOTO: Good. Next time we meet up I want to hear all about it.

“All right, class, settle down.” The teacher took her place at the front of the room. Futaba had twelve messages from Inari and she was pretty sure he was still going, but that could wait.

—

HARU: Sorry, I meant to text you earlier but I was in a meeting!

HARU: Have a good time at school today <3

It was finally lunchtime, and Futaba was sitting on the roof with Ann and Ryuji. She was scrolling through her text messages while Ryuji was lamenting the fact that he somehow already had homework.

He looked over her shoulder at her phone. “Whoa, you got a lot of messages.”

“Twenty six of them are from Inari talking about his new painting.”

“Geez. You’re not going to read all that, are you!”

“Nope!” she said cheerfully, earning a laugh. In fact, she probably would read it — she was more than used to Inari’s ramblings by now, and it might give her material to annoy him with later.


	5. Lucky D6

Considering her trepidation, Futaba’s first week of school had been surprisingly uneventful. She still didn’t like the crowds, or the noise, but she was managing it okay. Only once had she retreated to the girls’ room in a sudden bout of panic, hiding in a stall until her heart rate finally went down. The fact that that had only happened once counted as a victory.

It helped that the reality of high school was far more mundane and less scary than she had imagined in her worst nightmares. It was a lot like doing the promise list with Ren, really.

No one seemed to have a glowing pink heart above their head, or even a bright yellow exclamation point. Which was fine. She could tackle “make new friends” and “find a boyfriend” later, once she had conquered her current goal of “survive a week at school”. 

Besides, she had her old friends. She had quickly established a routine of eating lunch with Ann and Ryuji. The most boring NPC in the world, Mishima, joined them on Wednesday and she got to grill him about security for the new website he was planning. She had been texting her other friends a lot — Makoto was extremely busy with college, Haru also had college and her company to worry about, Ren was apparently living an honest student life at his old school, and Inari had holed himself up in a Kosei studio to work on his new masterpiece. 

Which was fine. He couldn’t exactly be expected to take a giant painting to Leblanc.

The only thing that was wrong was that she constantly felt… distracted? She wasn’t entirely sure by what, but she figured it was pretty normal for the first week at school.

Despite her general success at adjusting, she felt pretty drained by Saturday, and slept in on Sunday. The group chat was quiet and none of her friends were at Leblanc, so she figured everyone else either had plans or was also drained. All in all, it seemed like a perfect day to laze about her room and do nothing of consequence.

She flopped on her bed and opened up a manga she had picked up at the bookstore recently. She read a few pages and… it was doing nothing for her. Bleh.

She moved to her computer and started up a visual novel she had been in the middle of… and that wasn’t holding her interest either.

RPG? Nope.

Work on the game she was making? Not a chance.

She pushed her chair away from her computer with a frustrated huff. Now that she was in school, a day off was a rare thing to be treasured, like a megalixir, and here she was squandering it on a common random encounter. 

Despite her earlier conviction that she was completely social’ed out, maybe she was kind of lonely after all. She picked up her phone and pondered her options. Group chat was a no-go unless she wanted to risk hanging out with _everyone._ That meant messaging someone individually, and that meant deciding.

Thankfully, six Phantom Thieves were nearly a perfect fit for her lucky D6. (Six, because bothering Ren over text counted as socializing.) She pulled her favorite die from her dice bag — the deep, metallic purple one with sparkles — and rolled.

Ann. Hmm. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hang out with Ann, but Ann usually wanted to invite everyone, which was the whole reason she hadn’t texted the group chat. Sometimes that was fine, but Futaba would really prefer a relatively quiet afternoon.

She rolled again. Ryuji. If she wanted a quiet afternoon she was going in the wrong direction.

Another roll, another Ryuji. 

She glared at her lucky D6. She had been secretly willing it to roll a four and it wasn’t cooperating. She wanted some plausible deniability so she could pretend to herself she didn’t really just want to hang out with Inari.

Futaba compromised with herself by flipping the d6 over so that it was showing a four, and then texting Inari.

FUTABA: inari! 

FUTABA: my lucky d6 told me to bother you

YUSUKE: What is a d6…?

FUTABA: a six sided die

FUTABA: remind me to show you my dice collection, you’ll like it

YUSUKE: Why do you have a collection of dice, and why are they talking to you?

FUTABA: oh wait better yet remind me to show you my tabletop roleplaying games

FUTABA: i’ve never actually gotten to play them with anyone and you would be PERFECT because you are RIDICULOUS

FUTABA: you can be a bard

YUSUKE: A bard?

YUSUKE: I should warn you, my singing voice is less than satisfactory.

FUTABA: omg i need to hear this

FUTABA: remind me we need to do karaoke too

YUSUKE: I am probably not going to remind you about the karaoke.

FUTABA: what are you up to now anyway

YUSUKE: I seem to have hit a roadblock in my latest painting.

YUSUKE: I’m at the school library, looking through books for inspiration on how to correctly depict the lighting.

FUTABA: ooh the library, how old school

FUTABA: is there a card catalog

YUSUKE: You’re welcome to come by if you’re interested. Our school library is quite nice.

FUTABA: what, seriously?

FUTABA: sure why not

She grabbed her laptop and manga and headed out. After all, being bored in the library was just as good as being bored in her room.

—

The Kosei school library really was nice. In fact, Futaba was kind of jealous. She hadn’t been in a library for years, preferring to read her books electronically, but she had to admit there was something friendly and comforting about being surrounded by so many books.

Yusuke was waiting to let her in the door with his student ID. He immediately led her over to the huge stack of art books that he was perusing, pointing out various features of the paintings he was studying and explaining the techniques involved. She didn’t really catch all of it, but he was so _enthusiastic_ about the whole thing, and it was really cute when he got going with the dramatic hand gestures.

Eventually he headed off to find another book he absolutely needed to show her. Instead of pulling out her things, she took the most interesting looking of the art books off the stack and began to flip through it. Not usually her thing, but it wouldn’t kill her to broaden her horizons, right?

When Yusuke returned, he nearly dropped the book he was holding when he saw what she was looking at, exclaiming that she was looking at a painting by one of his _favorite_ artists. Before she could even respond, he was sitting right next to her so he could point out exactly what made this painting so inspirational. His obvious glee at having someone to discuss art with was —

— was that the second time she had noticed Inari’s cuteness in less than ten minutes?

That was… weird.

Yusuke returned to his original seat and began to take notes and make small sketches while flipping through the books. Futaba pulled out her manga and found that the library setting was much more conducive to reading than her room had been. She could make a habit of this.

-bzzt bzzt-

ANN: futabaaaaaa :D

ANN: haru and i are going for crepes, wanna come?

FUTABA: sure, crepes sound good!

ANN: where are you anyway

ANN: so we can decide where to meet

Futaba suddenly felt self-conscious about telling Ann where she was. It wasn’t as though she did anything wrong, but Ann might think she was kind of weird for spending her Sunday in a school library that wasn’t even at her school. She briefly considered just saying she was at Leblanc but that might make meetup plans awkward, not to mention how awkward it would be if she decided to also invite Yusuke.

FUTABA: i’m at kosei actually

ANN: kosei?

ANN: are you helping yusuke with something?

FUTABA: pretty much

ANN: oh cool, invite him too then

ANN: i was gonna make this a girls only thing but makoto is too busy

ANN: and he’d be so sad if we went for food without him

FUTABA: hahaha let him suffer!

FUTABA: j/k i’ll ask him

“Hey Inari, wanna go get crepes with Ann?”

His head snapped up as though she had said the library was on fire. “Certainly,” he said, involuntarily punctuating his statement with a tiny stomach growl. 

She absolutely refused to find that _cute._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Futaba was looking at Kandinsky's Composition 8](https://www.guggenheim.org/arts-curriculum/topic/vasily-kandinsky-composition-8)


	6. Secret Art Death Cult

FUTABA: so inari

FUTABA: after reading all those art books yesterday i had an epiphany

YUSUKE: Oh really?

FUTABA: yeah i’m basically an expert in art now

FUTABA: and i figured out what your painting needs…

FUTABA: is kirby

YUSUKE: What is kirby?

(Picture sent: kirbydance.gif)

YUSUKE: What.

FUTABA: he looks harmless and fluffy, but he literally inhales any nearby food

FUTABA: so he’s an artistic subject you can really relate to

YUSUKE: How am I fluffy?

FUTABA: so here’s what you do: you paint your landscape as normal

FUTABA: then you paint kirby inhaling everything in sight

FUTABA: it will remind people of the fragility of existence.

YUSUKE: Brilliant.

FUTABA: is that sarcasm

FUTABA: because i think i already told you i’m an expert in art now

YUSUKE: Truly, how could I ever doubt your judgement?

—

Futaba had always been obsessive. Whenever she found something she liked — a video game, an anime series, a new hacking project, whatever — she would inevitably obsess over it for days or even weeks, unable to really focus on anything but the object of her obsession.

So the fact that she was completely unable to focus on school on Monday was a familiar sensation. In the past, this kind of thing had been fairly straightforward for her to deal with. Even when she was in middle school, she was generally smart enough to breeze through her schoolwork without much effort, allowing her to devote as much time as possible to whatever it was she _really_ wanted to do.

There was just one small problem: none of her video games, anime series, or personal projects were holding any interest for her either. After school, in her room, with no pressing obligations, she felt just as restless and unfocused as she had at school. She ended up mindlessly surfing the internet for hours.

Lying awake in bed that night, she pondered her predicament. Usually she just indulged herself in whatever was currently occupying her brain until she had had her fill of it and moved onto something new. How was she supposed to do that when she didn’t know what she even wanted?

Or worse, what if she wanted…?

The next morning, she rolled into Leblanc slightly late, her restlessness having not improved even slightly from the previous day. Sojiro served her up coffee and curry, then handed her a piece of paper. “Your bottomless pit of an artist friend stopped by and asked me to give this to you.”

It was a sketch of herself hugging a Kirby.

FUTABA: this is the greatest artistic masterpiece known to mankind

YUSUKE: I’m quite pleased you enjoyed it, considering you are the world’s foremost expert in art.

FUTABA: it’s basically the mona lisa and sistine chapel rolled up together

FUTABA: i’m gonna call the louvre after school so we can get this displayed the way it deserves

FUTABA: and by the louvre i mean i’m tacking it up on my wall

YUSUKE: Not only are you an expert in art, but also in museum curation.

FUTABA: i have many talents, inari

After school, she stopped by Leblanc. It was empty except for Sojiro, which was disappointing. She swallowed her disappointment and decided she was going to try and force herself to channel her antsiness into work on her game. She put on her headphones, blasted her favorite video game soundtrack, and… stared at her IDE. And stared. And refactored one method. And flipped the theme from dark to light to dark. And fixed a typo.

She flopped back into her seat. If she didn’t figure out how to deal with her increasing restlessness soon she was going to go absolutely batshit crazy. Even worse, she was having nagging suspicions about what her problem might be, and spending an increasing amount of time reassuring herself that _no, it was not that._

Wednesday, unsurprisingly, was not an improvement. At lunchtime, Ann noticed her general irritableness and asked what was wrong; Futaba just mumbled that she hadn’t slept well the night before.

She arrived at Leblanc after school, fully expecting another wasted evening of frustration. The cafe was actually pretty full for a change. Inari was sitting at the counter drinking a cup of coffee.

Her heart leapt, and her cloudy mood immediately lifted… and then came crashing back down again when she realized what this reaction meant.

The reason she couldn’t stay focused on anything was because what she _really_ wanted to do was spend time with Inari.

She was having actual feelings for Yusuke Kitagawa, of all the people in the world.

As much as she had tried to reassure herself the past week, that was by far the most reasonable explanation for why she had been thinking about him, wishing he were around, and, most embarrassingly, finding him _cute._

“Futaba…? You’ve been standing in the doorway staring into space for the past several minutes. Is something wrong?”

Yes, something was extremely wrong. She needed about eighteen cold showers, a bucket of bleach and one of those memory-erasing kits.

At least, that’s what the part of her brain that was still in shock was thinking. The other part, the _traitorous_ part with all the _feelings_ sat down next to Inari and tried to act nonchalant. “Nope, nothing’s wrong, I’m just kind of tired. Didn’t sleep well.”

Inari seemed to accept that explanation and looked at her thoughtfully. Had his eyes always been that intense? Okay, she needed to stop thinking about his eyes _this instant._ “I see. I often have that problem myself, often when I am in the throes of a particularly difficult project.”

“What do you do?”

“Hmmm…” He carefully considered the topic and _absolutely did not look cute when deep in thought, damn it._ “I like to think about a place or time that is comforting. Like sitting on the shoreline of a beautiful lake, watching the waves roll in, listening to the sounds of the birds all around you…”

He continued describing his ideal lake scene, complete with sweeping hand gestures. Futaba watched his hands and wondered if this was what it felt like to Shadows when they hit their secret weaknesses. The length of his description gave her plenty of time to realize that her life had somehow come to a place where Inari could be talking about joining a secret art death cult and she would be so focused on his hands she would agree to it.

This was a problem. A huge problem.

—

She needed some time to think, and thankfully an extremely boring math lecture was the perfect time to do that. She was smart — what she needed to do was lay out her options and decide on a course of action.

Problem: Having inadvertently developed what some might consider to be the tiniest bit of a crush on goddamn Inari. 

I mean, sure, everyone knew that their bickering and teasing was just for fun and they were basically best friends when you got down to it. Honestly, she wanted it to stay that way, which was part of why these new feelings were so alarming. They were supposed to be awkward dork pals and she was poised to ruin it all. Obviously there was no chance he felt the same way and she wouldn’t have the slightest idea to do even if he did. She had no choice but to bury her crush so deep that he’d never figure it out. Thankfully for her, he was notoriously oblivious to anything that wasn’t an artistic subject.

Course of action?

Option one: Never see him again.

That was obviously drastic and unworkable, given their mutual friends. Even if it were possible, she just wanted to get her feelings under control, not actually excise her close friend and favorite verbal sparring partner from her life. Next!

Option two: Invent time travel, warn past self.

If she told her past self she had developed a crush on Inari, her past self would definitely just mock her, and she honestly couldn’t blame her. Next!

Option three: Make him… not look at her with his… super intense eyes?

That didn’t even make sense, and she really needed to stop thinking about his eyes. The only thing worse was imagining him smiling and MOVING ON, NEXT.

Option four: Distract herself from this obsession before it got any worse.

That option seemed by far the most reasonable. There was no real reason for her to think that this was anything more than a kind of temporary insanity. It was probably all because she had been so stressed out about starting school, and she associated spending time with Inari with the summer break. If she could just distract herself while she got used to school, her problem would likely fade away. 

-bzzt bzzt-

RYUJI: futaba

RYUJI: youd better be free sunday

RYUJI: bc i finally got haru to come to the arcade with us

They had decided long ago that Haru would be amazing at fighting games if they could get her to try them.

FUTABA: omg YES

FUTABA: you bet your ass i’ll be there

This was perfect. She would hang out with Ryuji at the arcade like she often did during the summer, which let her test her hypothesis that she just missed things associated with the summer. She hadn’t seen Haru since the beach trip, so that would be nice. And Inari wasn’t invited, which was also an important part of this scientific experiment.

—

The experiment had started out so well.

Ryuji and Futaba explained the ins-and-outs of fighting games to a polite Haru. She seemed skeptical at first until she began sparring with Futaba and managed to pull off a combo. 

Then she smelled blood.

Haru wasn’t skilled enough to win most of her matches against them, but her approach was ruthless and difficult to predict. She was a very quick learner and good at anticipating moves as well. With a little more practice she’d be a terrifying opponent.

“So, Futaba,” Haru said casually as they picked new characters, “have you given any more thought to what we were talking about on the beach? Ann wanted to help you find a boyfriend, remember?”

Internally, Futaba cursed Haru’s sudden but inevitable betrayal. She came here to not think about boys, and yet that’s apparently what they were going to talk about.

“I haven’t found anyone at school who looks like a dating option,” she said as casually as she could muster as the fighting match started. “Guess I’ll have to stay single for now!”

Haru deftly blocked Futaba’s opening attacks. Her skills were improving. “No one at your school, but what about outside of school?”

“Where would I meet someone outside of school?”

“Weren’t you at Kosei last weekend? There could be a cute boy there!” Haru launched a combo that a flustered Futaba completely failed to block, winning her the match.

“No! I mean, no. No cute boys anywhere yet. I’ll let you know if there are any oh hey I’m kind of tired of fighting games let’s go over there and I’ll show you how that guitar game works!” She rushed across the arcade, a bemused Haru following her.

This don’t-obsess-over-Inari experiment was turning out to be kind of a failure.

—-

The back of the Mona-van was oppressively stuffy. They’d been in Mementos for hours, and everyone except Joker was starting to look like ice sculptures left out in the sun. Noir was staring straight ahead with glassy eyes, Skull kept impatiently shifting in his seat, and Panther wouldn’t stop fidgeting with her costume. Oracle was sitting next to Fox and could hear him softly groaning every time the van hit a bump. He had long since put away his sketchbook, which was a sure sign that he was completely _done._

Her thoughts were interrupted by the van hitting a Shadow. Joker’s chosen team piled out of the van with significantly less energy than they had at the beginning of the Mementos trip, lining up in front of a single Sarasvati. She did a quick scan — weak to electricity. “Hey, you can go for its weakness!”

Skull was still in the van, so Joker was handling electricity at the moment. “You’re mine!” he called out, summoning Norn and casting Ziodyne.

“Joker, you missed?!” She had barely finished her sentence when the Sarasvati wound up and cast Tentarafoo — mass confusion. She quickly scanned her friends with her Persona and one “missing signal” notification popped up.

Damn it, Inari.

Fox’s eyes were vacant and dazed as he shifted uncertainly on his feet. He seemed to regain his composure for a brief moment before casting Bufula unhelpfully at Queen. Queen yelped as she received a face full of ice crystals. “Fox, watch where you’re aiming!”

Mona was up next and cast Miracle Punch, thankfully knocking Sarasvati down and ending the battle.

Status effects usually faded shortly after the battle had finished, but sometimes it took a little longer. This appeared to be one of those times, given that Fox was standing there staring into the middle distance as the rest of them were loading into the van. Oracle sighed, grabbed his arm and gently herded him back to the van, plopping down in the seat next to him. She watched as he blinked slowly from behind the mask, trying to fight off the confusion.

He was always so deep in thought, lost in his own head. Seeing him look so helpless and blank was weird.

And interesting.

She pulled off his mask and kissed him.

Futaba woke up in her bed, heart pounding through her chest, and immediately facepalmed.

One, that was definitely not what had originally happened. Two, _what the fresh hell was that?_


	7. System Fault

Okay, so apparently the part of her brain with the feelings was willing to pull some dirty tricks on her. Like the final boss in an RPG, it couldn’t be reasoned with and it wasn’t going down without a fight. 

It was time to consider a new and riskier plan: ask one of her friends for help. Obviously she wasn’t going to explain the entire situation — she’d just ask for advice about what to do when you’re especially distracted and want to remove that distraction from your mind.

Last year, Ren would have been the clear choice. He somehow always knew the right thing to say or had the best advice. But she kind of wanted to discuss this in person, not over the phone. There was also the issue that he could be frighteningly good at reading people…

Imaginary!REN: Futaba, you said needed to talk about something

Imaginary!FUTABA: i’ve been having trouble focusing at school…

Imaginary!REN: You should take Yusuke out to the planetarium, he’ll like that

Imaginary!FUTABA: HOW

Yeah, nope.

Ann and Haru would immediately assume it was about a boy and grill her on who it was, so that was out. Ryuji was her friend but she’d rather replace her PC with a vintage 80s Apple IIE than go to him for either romantic or academic advice. 

That left Makoto, and honestly, talking to Makoto about this made a lot of sense. She had tons on her plate at all times, and she managed it all while dating Ren long-distance, so she must have some secret for not getting overly distracted. If she framed her problem as concern about her grades, Makoto was the most likely to take her at face value and assume it was purely an academic issue. 

—

It was a few days before Makoto had free time to meet up at the nearby diner after school. She had originally suggested Leblanc, but Futaba wanted to have this conversation where she didn’t have to worry about Sojiro or… anyone else overhearing. Just in case.

“So what was it you wanted to talk about?” Makoto asked, sipping her fruit tea.

“I’ve been having trouble focusing at school, and I was wondering if you had… like… a secret?” she said hopefully.

“Hmm, it really depends on what’s causing your lack of focus. Is there something in particular on your mind lately?”

“No, not really. I just want to do better at school. Keep my grades up!”

Makoto’s eyebrows shot upwards and Futaba knew she hadn’t done a good job of selling that. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Are you in trouble?”

“No, nothing like that! Really.”

“Futaba, you know if there’s something wrong you can always talk to me. I’ll do whatever it takes to help.”

“Everything’s fine!”

“Could it be that you’re just not used to the crowds at school? If that’s the case, I’m not sure there’s anything for it but time. You will get more used to it, I promise.”

That wasn’t especially helpful. “I don’t think that’s exactly it.”

“Hm.” Makoto took a thoughtful sip of her tea. “Is it about a boy?”

Makoto, _please._ “No! There’s no boy.”

“A girl?”

“No, not that either!”

“Oh.” The look on Makoto’s face was unreadable. “Have you ever heard the saying ‘don’t think of the white bear’?”

“Maybe…”

“All it means is that if you’re trying really hard not to think of something, you’ll inevitably start thinking about it. For example, if I tell you to try hard not to think of a white bear, you picture it, right?” Futaba nodded. “Distractions can be like that. The more you try to force yourself not to think about it, the more you do. So if you had a crush on a boy, and I told you to not think about him, you couldn’t help but do it, right?”

“Um…”

“If I said, no matter what you do, don’t think about him smiling…”

She could feel her face turning hot as she pictured _exactly_ what Makoto was saying. 

“…and don’t think about his hair, or his voice…”

“Okay! Stop! Mercy! I’ll talk!” Futaba had no idea why she had ever thought Makoto would be less scary than Ren. One downside to meeting all your friends through supernatural crime was that they all had the capability to be terrifying. “How did you even know about the crush thing? It’s like _everyone_ somehow knows.”

Makoto laughed gently. “I mean, you’re having trouble focusing, you’re really embarrassed about it and you don’t want to tell me what it is. That’s kind of the most obvious reason. And if that’s all it is —”

“All?”

“—if that’s _all_ it is, then this kind of denial isn’t healthy.”

“Maybe I like denial,” Futaba said, muffled from burying her face in her arms.

“You know it’s completely normal to feel this way, right?” Futaba made a noncommittal sound from behind her arms. “Is it someone I know?”

“No, it’s a boy in my class. You’ve never met him,” she said, keeping her face hidden just in case it betrayed her lie.

“That’d be a second year, right? As student council president, I talked to quite a few of them last year, so it might be someone I know.”

Futaba groaned. “Does it matter who it is?”

“Futaba, you know you can’t drop something like that and not expect me to be at least a little curious.”

“Look, I’m not asking you for _crush_ advice. I don’t _want_ to have a crush on anyone. I’m trying to figure out how to crowbar it out of my brain so I can get on with my life.”

“Being attracted to someone isn’t always something that you can choose. I don’t think there’s really a way for you to… crowbar it, or anything like that.”

“What do you think I should do, then?”

Makoto considered the question. “Well, I meant what I said before — if you keep trying so hard to not think about it, you’re going to drive yourself crazy. Have you considered just… going with it?”

“Seriously?”

“I’m not saying you have to ask someone out if you’re not ready! And you shouldn’t let a boy interfere with your schoolwork. But there’s really no reason why you can’t pursue a crush in your free time, you know. At the very least, it’s probably harmless to allow yourself to think about it.”

Futaba was skeptical. “Will that help?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s probably healthier than trying to bottle up all your feelings. If I can handle a relationship with Ren while juggling all my responsibilities, there should be no reason why you can’t entertain a crush on a boy in your school.”

“Was this how it was when you started dating Ren? Like you were thinking about him all the time.”

Makoto looked a little surprised at the question. “Yes. Yes, of course it was.” She leaned in with a smile on her face. “You know Ren. Do you not know how distracting he can be? How he looks at you from behind those glasses and it’s like… you’re the only thing in the whole world that matters. Like time stops.” 

“Oh yeah, I can definitely understand that.”

“Not only that, but you saw him back in the Metaverse. With that outfit. And those red gloves, that he was constantly fiddling with. If he wasn’t playing with his gloves, he was twirling around those knives, with that smile on his face… He just looked so… cool in the Metaverse, you know? I couldn’t stop watching him.”

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… how’d you keep your concentration when you were watching him all the time?”

Makoto smiled. “Are you having that problem with your boy?”

“Well… he’s the kind of person who’s always doing something with his hands. It’s hard to stay focused when he’s around.”

“Could you move someplace else, so you aren’t sitting near him?”

“No,” she said firmly. 

Makoto was looking at her with a mix of curiosity and concern. “You really can’t just ask the teacher to change seats in the classroom?” Futaba made a flustered noise. Makoto’s eyes narrowed and for a moment she looked a little too much like Sae. “There’s something you’re not telling me about this. You know, Ren thinks — never mind.”

“Wait, what does Ren think?”

“Well, I told him that you had something you needed to talk to me about. Sorry, but you sounded kind of desperate on the phone. He’s probably going to wonder what it is. Can I tell him?”

Ren was probably going to find her out. On the other hand, she didn’t have a good reason to deny Makoto’s request. “Sure, I guess.”

A small alarm sounded from Makoto’s phone. “Oh! Sorry, Futaba, but I need to get to class soon.” She stood up, gathering her things. “I’m really concerned that you’re hiding something, though. I want you to know that you can talk to me and Ren about anything, right? I promise we’ll do our best to help.”

Futaba bit her lip and briefly considered spilling, but… “I know that. Thanks, Makoto.”

—

Riding home on the train, Futaba turned Makoto’s words over and over again in her mind. Logically, Futaba couldn’t really find fault with anything she said. But still, the idea of just accepting she had a crush instead of burying her feelings until they went away — she wasn’t sure she could do that.

As she walked down the streets of Yongen-jaya, she thought to herself that it would be extremely awkward if Inari were at Leblanc. And, of course, Inari was a master of doing whatever thing would be the most awkward, so there he was.

Instead of having his head buried in a sketchbook as he often did, he was drinking a cup of coffee with a far-off expression on his face. He waved her over as soon as she entered the door. “Futaba! I have finally completed my painting.”

He handed her his phone. It was displaying a photo of a gorgeous, slightly abstract landscape. “This is amazing, Inari,” she said, very sincerely. “You know you could have just texted me this picture though.”

“Perhaps I wanted to see your reaction in person. After all, weren’t you telling me that you are a master art critic?”

“Of course,” she said, grinning and handing the phone back to him. “So what are you gonna work on next?”

“Well, that’s something I wanted to discuss with you. I was wondering…”

He briefly glanced downwards. It wasn’t at all like him to be uncertain or shy when it came to his artistic inspirations.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to model for me.”

Futaba bluescreened.

“I won’t pressure you if you don’t want to. I don’t wish to have another talk with Ann about boundaries.”

“N-no, it’s not that! I’ll do it.”

Was this really happening? She had said yes before even thinking. Was that even a good idea?

“You will?” Inari seemed surprised.

“Uh… I don’t have to model… nude, right?”

“No, not at all. Your school uniform will suffice.”

Futaba took a deep breath and hoped that the room would stop spinning. “Why…”

“Hm?”

“Why me, though?” Impossibly, her cheeks started burning even more. 

She could tell that Inari was carefully considering his answer. “Your features and facial expressions are ideal for the emotions I wish to depict. I also thought your hair would be an interesting challenge.”

“Are you saying my hair is challenging?”

“Of course not, it’s quite beautiful. I simply meant that it would be a challenge to do it justice in the medium of paint.” How could he possibly look so calm when he was saying things like that? “I was considering making the portrait entirely grayscale except for the orange of your hair, but I’m concerned I won’t be able to get the shade exactly correct.”

He was leaning back and framing her face with his fingers. He was imagining her as a work of art. He was looking at her as if she were already a work of art.

Makoto had said there was nothing wrong with letting herself have feelings, and it was a damn good thing, because she was having a hell of a lot of feelings.

“So you’re going to paint me?”

“Yes, and if the painting turns out to be satisfactory, I may wish to exhibit it at the upcoming student art exhibition.”

“So you’re going to _exhibit_ me?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

Futaba swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “Yeah. Okay. Sounds fun.”


	8. Citation Needed

REN: As the leader of the Phantom Thieves, I have an extremely important announcement to make

REN: Our navigator and expert hacker has fallen hopelessly in love with local artist Yusuke Kitagawa

REN: The wedding will be taking place online, per the bride’s request

Futaba checked her buzzing phone and nearly did a spit-take with her coffee, which would have been especially bad considering the table was covered with her and Inari’s homework. Thankfully, Inari was too absorbed in what seemed to be a particularly difficult math problem to notice.

FUTABA: holy living fuck, ren

REN: Language

FUTABA: i don’t know what makoto told you but it is NOT THAT

REN: I know, I just wanted to get your reaction

FUTABA: well my reaction is A HEART ATTACK

REN: Interesting

FUTABA: i forbid you from finding that interesting

REN: Anyway, yeah, Makoto told me you have a crush on a boy at your school

REN: But if you actually did have a crush on Yusuke, I’d give you about an 82% chance of success

FUTABA: that’s both ridiculously high and ridiculously specific

FUTABA: citation needed

REN: I don’t see why it matters, considering you’re into someone else

FUTABA: ren why are you like this

FUTABA: you know you can’t say something like that and expect me to not be curious

REN: Allow me to present my numbers, then

REN: The success rate starts out pretty high considering you’re already basically a package deal

FUTABA: what is that supposed to mean

REN: Aren’t you together all the time

FUTABA: no

REN: Where is he now

Futaba glanced across the table and sighed.

FUTABA: never mind continue with your presentation

REN: Anyway I give Yusuke about a 10% chance of only liking you as a friend

REN: There’s a 6% chance he’s only romantically attracted to art

REN: And of course there’s a 2% chance he’s an alien sent to earth to observe human phenomena in the guise of being an artist

FUTABA: all three of those numbers are way too low

REN: If you don’t agree with my numbers, feel free to present your own research

REN: There’s also the thing where you’re modeling for him

FUTABA: wtf ren, he just asked yesterday

FUTABA: how do you already know

REN: Uh, Yusuke told me

REN: He’s very excited about it

REN: And surprised you accepted so quickly

FUTABA: I don’t know what I was thinking

REN: So anyway, back to mystery crush boy

REN: What kinds of things is he into?

Futaba’s fingers hovered over her phone as she tried to decide what to type. She didn’t like lying to Makoto earlier and didn’t really like the idea of lying to Ren either. She especially didn’t like the idea of fabricating a fake crush out of thin air. She could tell Ren it was none of his business but he had a tendency to make everything his business. Maybe she should just be honest? Ren already suspected anyway.

She typed a message but couldn’t quite will herself to press the send button —

“Futaba?”

Startled by Inari’s voice, Futaba yelped and fumbled her phone, which went clattering across the table and onto the floor. “Geez, Inari, you scared the crap out of me!”

“That was not my intention. I was merely wondering why you were staring at your phone and making strange noises.”

“You stare at your sketchbook and make strange noises,” she said. She retrieved her phone, angling it carefully so there was no chance Inari could see the message she had been about to send.

“That’s fair enough,” he said, returning to his homework.

REN: Futaba, are you there

REN: Makoto was kind of worried about how evasive you were being 

Futaba took a deep breath and hit “send” before she could change her mind.

FUTABA: i thought about it and decided i should be honest. you were right the first time. i actually do have a crush on inari and i’m super embarrassed about it. i’m sorry i lied to makoto.

She watched three dots appear and disappear as she braced herself for Ren’s reaction.

REN: Awesome, glad you got that out there

FUTABA: seriously???

FUTABA: you dredged that information out of me like you were searching for lost pirate treasure and that’s your reaction

REN: Hahaha do you think I came up with that stuff earlier out of nowhere

REN: I’m not surprised

FUTABA: but why though

REN: Various things

REN: Ann and Haru both think you two have been acting different, and Makoto was really worried you were lying about the boy in your class, and also I know you two

FUTABA: i am so bad at secrets

REN: How long has this been going on

FUTABA: like two weeks?

FUTABA: honestly probably longer than that…

REN: For the record I meant what I said earlier

FUTABA: that inari might be a space alien?

REN: Yes

REN: But also that you have a good shot with him

FUTABA: i don’t want a good shot

FUTABA: i want to get him out of my head

REN: If that were true, agreeing to model for him probably wasn’t the best idea

FUTABA: you must think i’m really stupid

REN: Of course not, you’re one of the smartest people I know

REN: Having a crush doesn’t mean you’re stupid

FUTABA: well i feel stupid

REN: Yeah, that’s just how it works

FUTABA: geez why’d i have to get a crush on inari of all people though

REN: You would know that better than me

REN: But if I had to guess, it’s because you’re friends, and you like spending time with him, and also he’s actually fairly attractive

Futaba flushed a bit and took a moment to glance over her phone and assess the validity of Ren’s last statement. For crucial fact-checking purposes, of course.

FUTABA: sure

REN: He’s eccentric, but you know all that and hang out with him anyway, so that doesn’t seem to be much of a problem

FUTABA: i think i might

FUTABA: actually like that?

FUTABA: like if he showed up one day and wasn’t totally in the clouds and obsessing about art, it’d be like, the real inari has been replaced by a pod person, i gotta go save him

REN: Pretty much

REN: And I bet if you showed up and weren’t teasing him and talking about video games, he’d do the same

FUTABA: How strange, Futaba appears to have been replaced by a doppelganger. I must rescue her from these pod people at once, and also paint them, because I’m Inari.

REN: Yusuke, give Futaba back her phone

FUTABA: lol

REN: So are you feeling any better

FUTABA: i guess

FUTABA: i still don’t know what to do with all these weird intense feelings

REN: Like what

FUTABA: you don’t want to hear about my weird intense feelings

REN: Did you forget who you’re talking to

REN: Listening to people’s weird intense feelings is basically my specialty

FUTABA: true, that and phantom thievery

REN: Lockpicks ’n’ listening

REN: So spill

FUTABA: if i tell you you have to pinky swear not to tell anyone ever

REN: I promise

Futaba glanced up to confirm that Inari was still engrossed in his homework, not that he could see her texts, but just in case. He was looking at his math textbook as though it had killed his dog and was running a pencil through his hair, which seemed like a sufficiently distracted state.

FUTABA: okay fine

FUTABA: I thought I understood this whole having a crush thing from visual novels and stuff

FUTABA: blushing and cherry blossoms falling from the sky and whatever

FUTABA: nobody told me it was more like having your brain hijacked out from under you

FUTABA: i can’t focus on anything

FUTABA: i could have been doing anything with my sunday and instead all i wanted to do was go to a dusty school library and have some dork talk art at me

REN: Ann mentioned something about that, yeah

FUTABA: it’s like i have zero control over my emotional state

FUTABA: and the worst part is, he doesn’t even know he’s doing this

FUTABA: if he purposefully set out to slowly drive me insane it wouldn’t even be half as effective

FUTABA: so what do you think, am i crazy

REN: Haha nah

REN: My official diagnosis is that you have it pretty bad for our mutual friend, but you are definitely not crazy

REN: That’s just what romantic feelings are like sometimes

FUTABA: seriously?

FUTABA: how does anyone get anything done

REN: You learn to deal with it, basically

REN: Alternatively you could try to date him

FUTABA: that seems like the opposite of helping

REN: It gives you someone to share the intense feelings with

FUTABA: huh, i never thought of it that way

REN: Is that something you want to do

FUTABA: what

REN: Date him

Did she?

The idea of actually dating someone seemed so bizarre and intimidating. On movies and TV, there were all these unspoken rules and customs, and fancy clothes, and wacky misunderstandings, and melodrama. She really didn’t want a part of any of that nonsense.

On the other hand…

She glanced upwards and could just picture herself snuggled contentedly next to Inari instead of separated by a table.

That… might actually be worth it.

FUTABA: tbh i wasn’t even considering dating as an ending to this quest line

FUTABA: would that even be possible

REN: Well, you’re modeling for him

FUTABA: that doesn’t mean anything

REN: What did he say was the reason

FUTABA: he said my hair was beautiful

REN: I’m revising my previous success chance upwards

FUTABA: he’s always saying things are beautiful

FUTABA: last week he was going on about how the coffee canisters perfectly reflected the afternoon light

REN: And you were probably like “this dork is so cute”

FUTABA: get out of my head

REN: Hahaha

REN: It’s possible he only wants you to model because of aesthetics or whatever

REN: But it’s still the perfect opportunity if you want to make a move

FUTABA: wtf is even making a move

REN: Kiss him

FUTABA: no

REN: You’ll probably have to bring a stepladder

FUTABA: leave

REN: I’m helping

REN: And make sure you feed him

FUTABA: that’s beginner level inari skills

REN: Sorry I forgot you’re getting a degree in advanced Inari

REN: Writing a thesis paper about the exquisite beauty of lobsters

FUTABA: someone has to do it

REN: Seriously though you could just ask him out on a date

FUTABA: look, i’m worried that if i confess, and he isn’t interested in me that way, we won’t be friends any more

REN: That is a risk, but

REN: I think he values your friendship more than you think and won’t want to end it even if he doesn’t feel the same way

REN: Also keeping your feelings bottled up like that is probably more likely to ruin things than being honest

FUTABA: why do you have to be so sensible when i’m trying to make excuses

REN: You’d better tell me how this modeling thing goes

FUTABA: he’s going to stare at me with his eyes

FUTABA: i’m going to spontaneously combust

FUTABA: the end

REN: OK, I’ll watch the news for Kosei going up in flames

FUTABA: right, that’s how you’ll know it went well

Inari dramatically slammed his book closed and collapsed onto the table. “I surrender.”

“Surrender to what?”

“Mathematics. This homework problem,” he gestured angrily at one of the papers on the table without lifting his head, “is utterly beyond my meager comprehension. I have tried to decipher its arcane meaning for nearly half an hour with little success, and I am now prepared to accept my defeat.”

“Can I help?” she said eagerly. She was much better at math than at feelings.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I —“ He raised his head from the table and looked a bit surprised when she slid into the seat next to him. “This is the wretched problem, if you can make heads or tails of it.”

“Math is my best subject, I got this!“ Her eyebrows knitted together and her smile turned to a grimace as she read the problem. “Wait, this doesn’t make any sense.”

“Precisely!” he exclaimed, vindicated.

“I can’t even tell what it is they want you to do. Are you sure there isn’t some kind of typo?”

“I had been operating under the assumption that I lacked understanding, but if you are also flummoxed then perhaps it is a fault in the problem after all. If that’s the case, then I believe my best course of action would be to ask my teacher about it tomorrow. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Instead of moving back to her side of the table, she reached for her assigned reading. Inari briefly raised an eyebrow but said nothing, opening up a history book. 

She thought she saw him smile when he thought she wasn’t looking, but that was probably just wishful thinking.


	9. Ice Zombie

Inari had told her that her school uniform would be perfectly fine for modeling. She still found herself staring at the mirror for no less than ten minutes before leaving the house.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she walked down the sidewalk and into Kosei, following Inari’s instructions to find the studio where he was waiting for her. She paused briefly outside the door to try and collect herself, then realized it was pointless, since she’d almost certainly decollect when she went inside.

The studio was very simple, with big windows to let in a lot of natural light. There was one student near the entrance painting something abstract. The only other person in the room was Yusuke, sitting by the windows, bathed in the morning sun, sketching. He had an easel set up and another chair.

He looked up as he heard her approaching footsteps.

“You came!” he said, looking very pleased. “It seems you had no trouble finding the place.”

“Nah, your directions were fine.” She sat down in the other chair. “So… uh… what am I supposed to do?”

He was fixing her with that look again — the same look he gave to one of his art projects when he was trying a particularly difficult technique, or trying to make a decision. Futaba was pretty sure the intensity of his gaze had somehow trapped her in amber and she would be here forever.

After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. “Sitting in this chair with a neutral expression would suffice.”

Futaba did her best to follow his instructions, but she wasn’t at all sure she could maintain a neutral expression under the circumstances.

Especially when Yusuke rose from his chair and hovered over her so closely they were practically touching.

“Is this… am I not doing the right thing?”

“No, you are, you’re just…” Yusuke trailed off. “A little… stiff. Could you relax a bit more?”

Task: Trying to relax while Inari was completely in her personal space

Level of difficulty: Dark Souls

“You seem… extremely nervous,” he said, perplexed. “Is there a problem?”

He was oblivious to anything that wasn’t art. And, at least temporarily, she was that art. Which meant he was going to be laser focused on her. And her emotions. Which she had been doing a terrible job of keeping in check lately. Futaba momentarily considered fleeing in panic, but remained tethered to the chair.

“Not a problem! I’ve never done anything like this before,” she explained, trying not to stammer over her words. “It’s a lot of pressure. What if I do it wrong and mess up your painting?”

Yusuke laughed softly. He was standing so close to her she could almost feel it. “I assure you that you are not doing anything wrong. I have some specific ideas in mind, but what I really want to capture is you. Your natural presence is what inspired me to paint you in the first place. If the painting turns out unsatisfactory, the blame rests entirely on me.”

She was definitely going to spontaneously combust. Her only hope was that Inari somehow didn’t notice her face turning bright red while he was standing only inches away from her and looking at her as though she were a specimen under glass.

That didn’t seem particularly likely.

“O-okay. Just, you know… tell me if I’m… doing the… thing… okay.” she finished lamely. 

Her eyes widened as she realized that Yusuke’s hands were extremely near her face. 

“Do you mind if I…?” Futaba wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but wordlessly shook her head.

His hand touched her chin with incredible gentleness. 

Futaba yelped and pulled her head away, nearly toppling off the chair. “Inari, your hands are freezing! How are you alive?”

“Sorry, I should have warned you that I have poor circulation.”

“And you don’t eat.”

“I ate today.”

“What’d you have?”

“Actually, perhaps it was yesterday.”

“We’re getting ramen once we’re done here. I’m paying. No arguments.”

“You won’t hear any objection from me.”

“Good.” Futaba settled back into her requested pose. “Sorry for jumping like that. You can… go ahead with what you were doing.”

“It’s truthfully not a problem?”

“I was just surprised at how cold your hands were. I guess it makes sense since your Persona’s ice and all. Now that I know you’re a White Walker, I can prepare myself.”

“A White Walker…?”

“An ice zombie.”

“I see. I wasn’t actually aware that I was an ice zombie, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

Once again, he touched her incredibly gently on the chin. He made a few adjustments to the tilt of her head, moving it back and forth a bit, deep in concentration, as though he were a jeweler appraising a precious gem. She could practically feel her eyes jittering with nerves, but he mercifully didn’t mention any of that.

Finally he retreated back to his seat, picked up his sketchbook and began drawing quickly. She could hear the scratch of his pencil as it flew across the paper. She knew from experience that he could whip out a sketch of her in an impressively short amount of time — usually when she had a particularly ridiculous facial expression and he decided it needed to be preserved for posterity. 

Futaba fidgeted and bit her lip. Sitting still with nothing but her own thoughts to entertain her was difficult for her in general, much less when combined with the unusual sensation of Inari drawing her. She could feel the anxiety welling up inside her, and just as she felt ready to burst, Inari stood up again and walked behind her.

“What’s up?” she asked, craning her neck upwards to try and see him.

“Would you mind lowering your head again? I’m trying to decide how to approach your hair.” Suddenly she felt him picking up part of her hair, apparently to examine it, and Futaba used every last scrap of her willpower to not think too hard about his hands in her hair. “I’ll never come close to approximating this exquisite color in the morning light,” he muttered to himself, putting down her hair and emerging from behind her. “Still, there’s nothing for it but to try.”

He moved the chair behind the easel and opened up a nearby set of paints. Taking a palette, he began mixing an orange color she assumed was supposed to be for her hair. Futaba couldn’t help impatiently kicking her legs back and forth. “Uh, is there anything I should be… doing?”

Her question momentarily startled Inari out of his deep concentration. “Oh, yes, uh… If you brought a book or some other activity with you, that would be acceptable, as I don’t require you in any particular pose right now.”

Futaba nodded, pulled a manga out of her bag, and began to read it. Or more accurately, she began to stare at a single page. Unsurprisingly, she was definitely not going to be able to focus at all when she could practically feel Inari’s gaze bearing into her. 

Ren suggested she ask him out. How would that even work, though? She invited him places all the time, and he did the same, but none of those were _dates._ I mean, she had just offered to buy him ramen and that clearly didn’t count. She would probably have to say up front it was a date, and she needed a few more stat points in courage before she could manage that.

Maybe if she invited him somewhere they didn’t normally go? Somewhere he particularly liked? The art museum would be an obvious choice. He had been so enthusiastic about showing her those art books in the library; he would probably really like an opportunity to explain more art at her. She loved the idea of spending an entire day with a happy Inari in his element.

She tried to imagine asking him…

_“Hey, Inari,” she said, as casually as she could manage even though her hands were practically shaking, “you wanna go to the art museum?”_

No, that was wrong, she wanted it to seem more like an invitation.

_“I’d like to go to the art museum with you! Would you show me around?”_

_Inari fixed her with a glare icy enough to freeze a volcano. “No. Why would you even think I’d agree to something like that?”_

Hold it, that was scary but not even slightly realistic. Inari had sometimes been busy when she asked him to do things, but he had never said anything that mean, even when she wanted to go to Akihabara. This was hard enough without her imagination inventing some kind of nightmare Inari.

Take two.

_“I’d like to go to the art museum with you! Would you show me around?”_

_He blinked in surprise. “The art museum…? Truly? That’s uncharacteristic of you. Why do you want to go there?”_

Yes, that was more like him.

_“Why do you want to go there?”_

_“I thought… it would be… neat?”_

Oh geez that was awkward. Try again.

_“Why do you want to go there?”_

_“I’ve taken a sudden interest in art.”_

_Inari raised one eyebrow so high she thought it would pop off his head. “Are you feeling well? Or is this some sort of prank?”_

No no no, try again.

_“Why do you want to go there?”_

_“I feel like we’re always doing things I want to do, and I wanted to do something you like for a change?”_

_Inari’s expression was unreadable. “While I appreciate your consideration, it’s hardly necessary. I have no desire to drag you to a place that will surely bore you.”_

_“I won’t be bored, promise. It’ll be fun!”_

_“I don’t understand why you’d wish to do this merely for my sake.”_

_“Because I like you, and I want to spend time with you and see you happy. But even if I actually had the guts to tell you that point blank, you wouldn’t believe me, because I know you secretly think we’re all like two seconds away from rejecting you and leaving you alone again. Just like I’m worried that one day you’ll stop coming by Leblanc. And since we both put all our points into Talent and used Social Skills as a dump stat, I don’t know how to tell you these things, and it’s difficult and frustrating for no reason.”_

_Inari looked like he didn’t know what to say. “I’m… sorry?”_

_“Yeah, me too.”_

Futaba was drawn back into reality by the sound of Inari rummaging through his bag for something. He was humming a tune she couldn’t recognize very softly to himself. That wasn’t something he usually did, and she wondered what that meant. Probably nothing, really.

This was taking a long time. Or was it? Maybe this was how long it normally took. She had no frame of reference for this sort of thing and hadn’t thought to ask Inari. She considered asking him now, but she didn’t want to disturb his concentration. If it was taking a long time, was that a good or bad thing? Like, good because he had a lot of inspiration to work with, or bad because he had no idea what to do with her as a model?

Should she be doing something other than sitting there pretending to read a manga? Like, pose more… artsy? She didn’t even know what that meant. Inari would tell her if she were doing something wrong, wouldn’t he? Or would he just quietly stew in his disappointment that she was turning out to be a terrible model? What if she ruined his painting? What if that caused him to flub the exhibition, and fail his art class, and lose his scholarship, and end up homeless, and have to move away —

“Futaba,” said Inari, breaking her minor panic spiral.

“Yeah? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, but I have something I must show you.” His voice was full of grave seriousness, and Futaba felt a cold wave of fear that she really had done something terribly wrong.

“Okay, go ahead…”

He tore a page out of his sketchbook and handed it to her. It was a quick doodle of himself as a zombie, with icicles hanging off his arms, and a little word bubble that said “Brains.”

She nearly snorted with laughter. “What is this…?”

Inari was smiling and sketching her as fast as he possibly could. “It was imperative that I capture your genuine smile. Simply asking you to smile wouldn’t have been sufficient. It needed to be earned.”

Futaba’s heart skipped a beat. 

“So, uh… is this whole modeling thing going okay, then?”

“In fact, it’s exceeding my expectations,” he said, not looking up from his drawing.

“I — okay, great. Awesome. I’ll just be… reading this book, then.” She hoped that Inari hadn’t noticed that she’d been staring at a single page the entire time she had been there.

So, on the one hand she probably wasn’t going to be able to work up the nerve to “make a move,” as Ren had called it. On the other hand, Inari said she was _exceeding his expectations_ , and that definitely counted as a significant victory. Her fears soothed, she actually was able to focus on her book a bit, and the remaining time went by surprisingly quickly.

“I believe we’re done for now,” said Inari, emerging from behind his easel.

“Ooh, are you done with the painting? I wanna see!”

“I’m not yet finished with the painting, but I believe I have enough reference material that I won’t require you to do any further modeling,” he said, packing up some of his supplies.

“Oh. Does that mean it’s turning out okay?”

“Indeed.” He had a content smile on his face. “I believe I’ve found my inspiration. I can’t thank you enough.”

Futaba was pleased enough to burst. “It was nothing! You did all the hard work.” She was quite proud of herself for surviving the challenge of modeling for Inari’s painting. When it came to her emotions, it had pretty much been a boss rush on hard mode.

“I do very much appreciate your willingness to indulge my artistic whims.” He put his sketchbook in his bag and stood up. “I’m quite eager to begin painting, but… you mentioned ramen…?”

Futaba jumped to her feet. “That’s right, it’s time to play Don’t Starve: Inari Edition!”

—

Futaba slurped up her noodles as the black hole sitting across from her absorbed his bowl of ramen. She was trying to catch the waiter’s eye so she could order another bowl for him while he was still occupied. Sometimes he would get self-conscious and object to her buying him extra food, and that wouldn’t do today — with his new painting on his mind he probably wasn’t going to eat dinner, so Futaba only had this one chance to make sure he was eating enough.

“You mentioned you were going to exhibit this painting, right? When does it need to be done by?”

Yusuke briefly paused his ramen consumption to answer her. “A week. If I don’t finish it in time, I can always submit that landscape. I feel very strongly about this new painting, though.”

She flagged down the waiter while he had a mouthful of noodles. “Can I get another bowl of pork ramen for him, please?” His eyes widened and he made a “mmph” sound.

By the time he had swallowed his noodles, the waiter had already walked away. “That was unnecessary.”

“It was _extremely_ necessary. I have to get some hot food into you before you turn into an ice sculpture.”

“Are my hands truly that cold…?”

“Yes. They are.” The second bowl of ramen arrived, and despite Yusuke’s claim that it wasn’t needed, he began devouring that one as well with not a moment’s hesitation. “A week isn’t very much time, is it?”

“You’re correct, but I have a very clear vision. I expect to have no trouble completing this.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Well, perhaps if I can’t capture your hair exactly the way I envision it…”

Yusuke looked down at his ramen, deep in thought and clearly about to say something. She continued eating and waited for him to say whatever it was he was going to say.

“The exhibition… there’s going to be a small event at the school.” Futaba felt her eyebrows raising. “I would like it very much if you would accompany me.”

She looked up from her food. His eyes were full of… hope? Was she imagining that?

He invited her places all the time, but his hesitation… this seemed maybe… different? 

She remembered before when she was trying to figure out how to differentiate between an ordinary request and a date.

Wishful thinking, or could it actually be…?

“Yeah, that sounds… Of course I’ll go with you.”

His smiles were normally small and understated, sometimes almost impossible to notice. It was rare for him to almost grin like that.

Whatever this was, it was different.

Oh shit, this actually _might be a date._

This couldn’t possibly be happening.

She had no idea what to do if it was a date. She had no idea what to _wear_ if it was a date. She didn’t even know how to tell if it _was_ a date.

As she returned to eating, she realized that she had no choice but to ask someone else for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >has very little knowledge about the creation of a painting  
> >decides to write Yusuke anyway
> 
> Thanks for reading this far! I haven't written a fanfiction in a thousand years so I appreciate that some people like it <3


	10. Loading Screen

Ann dug into her bowl of strawberry ice cream. “So… clothes shopping! You’ve never asked to go clothes shopping with me before. Something must be up.”

“Maybe…” Futaba toyed with her chocolate ice cream.

“Not that I mind going shopping with you, but you did promise to tell me what this was about, right?” Futaba said nothing. There was no real reason she shouldn’t just tell Ann everything, but she still felt so self-conscious about the whole thing.

A date. Maybe? A date with Inari. The phrase seemed like it shouldn’t exist, like it would summon elder gods if she said it aloud. Or like it was a subatomic particle that only existed as long as it wasn’t being observed.

“Is it a date?” Ann grinned and leaned in closer. Futaba made a noncommittal sound. “Oh my god. It is, isn’t it?” Futaba gave her the tiniest of nods. “That’s awesome, Futaba! I’m so happy for you! Who’s the lucky boy?”

Futaba fidgeted and dodged the question. “I’m not actually really sure it’s a date. He didn’t actually say it was.”

“Well… he asked you to go someplace alone with him, right?” Futaba nodded. “Then there’s a good chance that’s a date. I can’t really help you with this unless you tell me more about it! C’mon, gimme the details!” She grinned.

“It’s a little… embarrassing.”

“At the very least, you have to tell me where you’re going. That’s important for picking out the appropriate clothes.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, of course! You wouldn’t wear the same thing to a fancy restaurant than you would for, I dunno, going to the movies, or a walk in the park.”

Futaba felt as though she was getting in over her head in a whole new world of Dating Clothes that she didn’t understand. She also realized that simply telling Ann the location of the maybe-date would make the identity of the boy involved pretty obvious. She had better just rip that band-aid off.

“itsanartexhibitionatkosei”

“Huh? I didn’t catch that.”

“It’s an art exhibition at Kosei.” 

“An art exhibition…? Really…?”

“It’s Inari, okay? I’m going on a date with Inari. Maybe. It’s unclear.”

“Inari…? Yusuke? That Inari? You’re going on a date with Yusuke?” 

Futaba fought the urge to bury her face in her hands and looked at Ann straight on. If she wanted the greatest chance of success, she had to be honest with Ann. “He never actually said it was a date, though!”

“You’re really going on a date with Yusuke?”

“He didn’t _say_ it was a date.”

“He finally asked you out?”

“He didn’t _say_ — what do you mean _finally?_ ”

“Nothing!” Ann was still terrible at acting.

Futaba fixed Ann with her best serious face, aware that the most serious face she could muster still wasn’t particularly intimidating. “Oh come on, you said you were going to help me.”

Ann shrugged. “It’s just that I suspected something was up with you guys for a while, but neither of you seemed to be making a move.”

“Ren kind of said something similar, and I don’t understand where everyone is getting this from.”

“Do you really not know? You guys are _not subtle._ Yusuke will be drawing something and you’ll start staring at his hands like you’ve never seen him draw before. And then you’ll be doing something on your computer and he’ll put down his sketchbook and look at you like, I dunno, like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. And then sometimes you just stare at each other like you’re trying to communicate psychically or something.”

Futaba blushed. “Seriously? I didn’t realize…”

“And you do this thing where you’re bickering about something totally random, and then it’s like a switch flips and suddenly you’re in perfect sync like nothing happened.”

“Well, yeah, because we’re friends.”

“Sure. And the last time I was in your room you had so much of his art on the wall you had run out of space.”

“Doesn’t he give everyone art?”

“Uh, no he doesn’t. I don’t have any. I think Ren has one of his paintings? Seriously, though, you should hang onto all that in case he becomes famous someday. You’d be a millionaire.”

“Haha, I can just see it.” Futaba imitated a snooty art critic voice. “And in this wing of the museum, we have work from master artist Yusuke Kitagawa’s Doodles of Video Game Characters Period.”

“You never know!” laughed Ann. “So he invited you to an art exhibition at his school?”

“Well, I modeled for him for a painting, and he’s submitting the painting to this school event. That’s what he invited me to. What do you think?”

“Well, you know him better than me, but if he were going to confess feelings he’d definitely do it in the form of a painting.”

Futaba’s eyes widened. “You think so? I mean… that is true, I guess.”

“I’m not saying it’s definitely gonna happen! I mean… do you want it to?”

“Yes,” she said emphatically, a little surprised at her own conviction. “And if he doesn’t… I’m going to have to.” 

Ann grinned. “That’s the spirit!”

Futaba gently thumped her head onto the table. “I’m kidding. I’m actually terrified. My confidence is a total lie.”

Ann reached across the table and patted her shoulder. “Most confidence is a lie, though. That’s what they tell you in modeling: fake it ’til you make it.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So… this was why you asked me to go clothes shopping then? For something to impress Yusuke?”

“Geez, it sounds really silly when you put it that way.”

Ann shrugged. “It’s not like you’re trying to change yourself for some guy, you're just looking for something cool to wear. Look, we’ll go shopping, if you see something you like, great! If not, just wear something you already have. For better or worse, he’s probably already made up his mind about whether or not it’s a date and your clothes aren’t going to seriously matter.”

“Good point. Well, let’s make like a tree and hit the clothing stores!”

—

Futaba knew, intellectually, that a dizzying array of women’s clothes existed, mostly tucked away in dozens of stores she’d never consider entering, but being confronted with them all in a single afternoon was overwhelming. Ann was in her element, navigating store after store with a practiced eye. Futaba, on the other hand, was starting to feel like if she had to look at one more rack of generic flimsy party dresses she would go out of her mind. 

She was idly flipping through a rack of t-shirts and considering asking Ann if they were finished when, unexpectedly, something caught her eye. It was a t-shirt with an all-over print of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. She picked it up and examined it.

Ann appeared over her shoulder. “Oh my god, that is perfect! You have to buy that.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little on the nose?”

“With boys, you need to be a little on the nose. I’d be more concerned that he like, hates that artist and is going to critique your shirt.”

Futaba shook her head. “Nope, he loves Van Gogh. He literally won’t shut up about Van Gogh’s brush technique.”

“Ha! You really have been spending a lot of time with him if you know that off the top of your head.” 

“It’s culture! I’m learning about art, Ann.”

“I sure hope so, or this relationship probably isn’t going to work.”

—

Riding home on the train, she realized that Sojiro was probably going to ask her what she was bringing home after going shopping with Ann. Even if he didn’t, she should probably come clean about the maybe-I’m-going-on-a-date thing. Just in case.

Sojiro had told her that he wasn’t opposed to her dating, but his two main rules were 1) be careful and 2) he wanted to meet the boy as soon as possible. She had basically stuck to those rules even though #2 was kind of a cheat. Right?

She arrived home late enough that Sojiro had already closed up Leblanc, so she walked home. “Sojirooo! I’m home!”

“Welcome back!” he called, emerging from the kitchen. “You were out shopping with Ann, right? Did you get anything?”

She pulled out the Van Gogh shirt, grinning.

“That’s very pretty, Futaba. Not exactly your usual style, though, is it?” She took a deep breath, but before she could start talking, Sojiro fixed her with a knowing gaze. “I’m guessing your artist boyfriend finally decided to take you somewhere nice?”

Futaba’s eyes nearly popped out. “What?!”

He chuckled. “Did you honestly think I didn’t know you were seeing him? After you spent the entire summer practically joined at the hip? After I let him practically set up an art studio in the cafe just because it made you happy?”

“Um… I’m not…”

“Do you know how much curry I fed that bottomless pit because I figured if I let my daughter’s boyfriend starve to death I’d never hear the end of it?”

“You…”

“I’m not angry. I just wish you felt you could tell me about this sort of thing.”

“I do! I was going to tell you. Honestly. I just… I’m not… Things were complicated!” She considered explaining that they weren’t dating all summer and in fact might not even be dating now, but that seemed like a lot to get into at the moment. Particularly since Sojiro seemed not to disapprove, which was the important part. “Soooo… you don’t, uh — you’re okay with…?“

“I don’t see why, out of your group of friends and all the boys at your school, you have to pick the weird starving art kid.” He sighed in the way that always meant he was pretending not to be a huge softy. “He’s a good kid. He cares about his career and his future a surprising amount for a kid his age. It’s fine. I just want you to be careful, okay?”

Futaba nodded, surprised and pleased at how smoothly this had gone. “Of course! I understand!”

She made it to her room and was hanging up her new shirt before she realized — just because Sojiro hadn’t said anything to her didn’t mean she hadn’t said anything to him. She really hoped that he hadn’t, but Sojiro probably wouldn’t have been so okay with this potential relationship if he hadn’t said anything to Yusuke. Probably made some ridiculous empty threat too, like _if you hurt my daughter I’ll stick you in a coffee grinder._ She couldn’t decide whether she was mortified or just sad that she had missed out on seeing the look on Inari’s face.

—

REN: It’s happening!

FUTABA: ren help

FUTABA: ren i don’t know how to hair

REN: What do you mean

FUTABA: ann showed me how to put up my hair with this clip thing

FUTABA: and i can’t do it

FUTABA: there’s so much hair, how did i get so much hair

REN: Don’t ask me what to do with hair

REN: Mine does whatever it wants

FUTABA: yeah and it looks good anyway so stfu

REN: Other than hair problems are you ready

FUTABA: as ready as i’ll ever be i guess

FUTABA: and by that i mean not ready at all and i feel like my insides are a washing machine

REN: Close enough

REN: You’ll do great

FUTABA: thanks ren

Futaba looked at herself in the mirror. For a second she thought she could see Oracle reflected back at her. 

She’d fought Shadows. She’d faced down a god. She’d helped her friends save the world. She could handle one little maybe-date.

A knock on the door. One last moment to collect herself.

When she opened the door, Yusuke was there, wearing a deep blue dress shirt and black slacks. He looked a bit stunned to see her, and she felt her heart sink as she wondered if she were dressed all wrong.

“Futaba… your shirt! It’s a Van Gogh! That’s delightful!”

There was that almost-a-grin again. On second thought, shopping with Ann had been completely worth it.


	11. Max Rank

On the train ride, Futaba anxiously watched Yusuke for any hint of what he was going to do. Now that Ann had clued her into it, she could definitely tell that he was looking at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, too. She realized that she really, really missed hanging out with Yusuke for hours on end, eating junk food and talking about whatever, without having a knot in her stomach. Effectively losing her friend to a black hole of uncertainty sucked, and she was kind of hoping this night could somehow set things right again.

As they approached the Kosei Student Center, she could hear the familiar noise of a throng of teenagers. She wasn’t really expecting this event to be so crowded. It really wasn’t any more busy than a usual day at Shujin, but she already had butterflies in her stomach and the extra stress of crowds wasn’t helping. Before fully thinking it through, she nervously latched onto Yusuke’s arm. He didn’t seem to mind.

The student center itself was even more packed full of students. Apparently there were multiple kinds of exhibitions going on, because she could hear live music coming from various places, and people were walking by with instruments or in costumes. In the student center’s lobby there was a table with various finger foods, and Futaba prepared to dash after Yusuke if he beelined to the free food. Surprisingly, he appeared to not even notice it, as he led her to what seemed to be a student gallery.

There wasn’t a lot of room in the student gallery and they had to push through milling students to get to Yusuke’s painting, which was thankfully in an unoccupied corner.

The painting both wasn’t quite what she was expecting and _exactly_ what she was expecting. It was her, slightly abstract but instantly recognizable, smiling at the viewer, bathed in warm light, her surroundings hinting at their usual table at Leblanc. It wasn’t just a bland, happy smile though; there was sadness there, and uncertainty, and nervousness, all captured with such obvious care and attention that her heart caught in her throat.

Critically, actually coming face to face with the painting made Futaba realize that yes, he was absolutely intending to confess _something_ in front of it. And despite being effectively warned by Ann, she hadn’t really thought it was a serious possibility and so hadn’t mentally prepared. She could feel her knees turning to slime as Yusuke cleared his throat and and looked at his shoes. She silently cursed him for — she wasn’t sure what, exactly. Draining her ability to think straight and replacing it with useless mush, probably.

Yusuke was looking downward. “I’ve always prided myself on being able to depict complex emotions with my art. There was a time I thought that making simple art for no purpose other than pleasing a friend was a pedestrian urge. Until I felt compelled to do it for you, and I confess that I found your reaction, well, addicting. That’s the moment I decided I needed to capture in paint.” Yes, he was definitely doing this, and she was 0% ready. “There’s more than that, though, there’s sharing a conversation or even a terrible joke with someone so — bright. Radiant.” He had a nervousness in his eyes that she hadn’t ever seen before. “I’m sorry, I’m doing this entirely wrong, you must think I’m being inane —“

Futaba’s throat had gone dry. Still holding on to his arm, she drew closer. “Ina— Yusuke, I — You’re definitely not inane. I wanted to tell you—“

A loud voice from behind them caused Yusuke’s posture to immediately stiffen. “Oh shit, Kitagawa has a girlfriend?”

“I bet she’s kidnapped. Hey girl, blink twice if Kitagawa kidnapped you.”

The voices belonged to a pair of boys, also in Yusuke’s year. Yusuke faced them with a stern glare. “I don’t have anything to say to you two. You disgrace this gallery with your behavior.”

They cracked up. “‘You disgrace this gallery.’ The fuck does that mean?”

“Your girl’s pretty cute though. Girl, are you sure you want to date Kitagawa?”

“Don’t bother, I bet she’s just as weird. Look at her, she’s freaking out.”

Futaba was indeed freaking out. The crowds, the noise, the pressure, the emotions, and now this — she was overwhelmed in a way she hadn’t been in a while. She barely even noticed that Inari wasn’t correcting the boys on the whole “girlfriend” thing. Not knowing what to do, she hid behind Yusuke as the two boys laughed.

Cold hands gripped her shoulders and led her very firmly and decisively through the crowds and out of the student gallery. She could hear the boys getting in one last jeer but couldn’t make out what it was. Soon they were back out in the cool air of an autumn twilight.

“I’m truly sorry that happened, Futaba. Those two are utter cretins. Please don’t pay them any mind.”

She still felt dizzy and faint and was beginning to hyperventilate, so she could only manage a small squeak in response.

“You look very pale. Are you going to be all right? …You don’t look all right. If I found someplace quiet to sit, would that help?” She nodded.

He took her by the shoulders again and led her to the building next door, which she dimly recognized as the library she had visited. The library was more or less devoid of students, and he found a small padded bench under a window in a secluded area where they could sit.

Futaba’s overwhelming panic had given way to a mix of embarrassment and misery. He had actually been trying to confess, something she never thought would happen in a million years, and somehow she still totally blew it. She was pretty sure successful maybe-dates didn’t involve the girl having a nervous breakdown. 

Yusuke sat down next to her, his face filled with alarm. “Is this acceptable? Are you going to pass out?” She shook her head. “Do you need some water?” She shook her head. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I-I’m sorry, Ina — Yusuke,” she said. She could feel the blood rushing to her ears. “I’m a total embarrassment.”

“You are _not_ an embarrassment. If anything, this situation is my fault. I should have warned you that some of my classmates are — I believe the term I’ve heard you use is ‘garbage people.’” Futaba nodded and tried to calm down, but her breathing was still coming out in small, ragged gasps.

“Futaba, don’t worry about those people, or about being an embarrassment. Just breathe.” He took her hands in his. They were so cold and very rough, with uneven nails and a few small scars. “Hmm… what is a place you find calming?”

“Uh… L-Leblanc.”

“Can you close your eyes and imagine Leblanc?” She tried. “It’s a cool autumn evening. A soft rain is tapping on the window. There is coffee brewing and the wonderful smell permeates the cafe. The TV is on softly in the corner. There are no customers around, just you, in your usual spot, with your laptop, playing that… unusual farming game you showed me.”

Futaba could picture it all easily, and her breathing was slowing to normal. “You’re there too,” she insisted.

She could hear the smile in his voice. “Yes, I’m also there. I’m sitting across from you and sketching. And since this is just imagination, it’s coming out perfectly and I’m completely satisfied with it.”

“I’m not sure even imaginary Yusuke would ever be that satisfied with his drawing.”

“No, perhaps you’re right,” he chuckled softly. “Are you feeling any better?”

She opened her eyes to see him smiling at her. “Yes. Thank you. I’m sorry I ruined your exhibition.”

“I don’t understand why you keep saying things like that. You couldn’t possibly ruin my exhibition.”

“Uh… I freaked out and we had to leave.”

He looked her in the eye. “For several years, I attended exhibitions where my work was shown under a different name. Nothing you could do could come close to the indignities inflicted on me in the past. Even if you find my work to be displeasing or inadequate — well, no matter.”

“Yusuke…” He had the look on his face that he usually did when he was considering destroying his own artwork and starting fresh. “Yusuke, your painting is amazing. I love it.”

“Truly…?” His voice was still full of doubt. “If you had gone through the trouble of posing for me and it had turned out unsatisfactory, I would be quiet upset with myself.”

“Trouble? What, seriously? You know that I posed for you just because I wanted to spend time with you, right? The painting came out amazingly good like they always do, but I would’ve liked it even if you made it by smashing your face against the keyboard in MSPaint.”

He didn’t look pleased. “You’re mocking me.”

“No, I’m not! Sorry… I’m just nervous. I have a lot of things I want to say to you and I don’t know how. Not everyone can whip out some kind of gorgeous masterpiece to express their feelings, you know.” He looked like he was going to say something, but stopped. “Listen, I worry sometimes that you think no one’s going to like you if you’re not the best at painting. But I want you to know that I do like you, and I’d like you even if you quit art and started working at Big Bang or became a living statue guy. I’d be at Big Bang every day to say hi. Or I’d help you with your weird metallic living statue guy makeup, I don’t know, whatever. I just want you around. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“Yes, I — I want you around as well. I feel more comfortable with you than I do even by myself. That’s what I was attempting to express. With the painting,” he said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the exhibition. He had turned bright red and Futaba had never seen him so flustered before. It was almost unbearably cute. 

Before she could think twice or even fully process what she was doing, she leaned in and kissed him.

For a handful of seconds that seemed to stretch to eternity, he made a surprised noise and didn’t kiss her back, and she thought she had made a _huge_ mistake.

Then he took her into his arms and kissed her back with surprising ferocity and she hadn’t made a mistake _at all._

He smelled a little like paint, a little like soap, and somehow a little like a crisp winter day. She wondered if she was kissing correctly, and if it was his first kiss too. 

Then the realization of what she had done hit her brain with all the grace of a bird slamming into a glass door.

“Holy shit,” she said, breaking off the kiss, “I just kissed you.”

He seemed confused. “…yes?”

She grabbed him by the shoulders. “No, you don’t understand. _I just kissed you._ ”

“I’m… fairly certain I understood that, actually.”

“I kissed you and _you’re okay with it?_ ”

“I’m sorry, I thought I had adequately conveyed that when I returned the kiss.”

“So we can keep kissing?”

“To be honest, I’m not entirely clear on why you stopped in the first place.”

She wasn’t sure either, except perhaps that this seemed like it couldn’t possibly be a real thing that was happening, so she kissed him again.

Several unskilled but enthusiastic minutes later, Yusuke was the one to break the silence. “I had been thinking… it would be very convenient if we were actually dating. I wouldn’t have to continually come up with excuses to see you.”

She grinned. “Yeah, obviously that would make sense. Why didn’t you think of it sooner?”

“I don’t know where my head was at.”

“Dating you would be convenient for me too, you know. I could make sure you’re eating properly and I could watch your hands while you sketch without it being weird.”

“You watch my hands when I sketch?”

“…did you not notice that?”

“I suppose I didn’t.” She could see the wheels turning in his head. “You like to watch me sketch. Hmm.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It seems like useful information to have.”

“That seems like it should be sweet, but you make it sound like you’re scheming something.”

“I don’t see why it can’t be both.” 

“Geez, stop being so cute when you’re thinking.” Futaba was staring at him with wide eyes. “I just realized that if you’re my boyfriend I don’t have to stop myself from finding you attractive.”

“You find me att— mmph!” She decided to cut him off with a kiss before he had a chance to think about that one too hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five minutes later, they were kicked out of the library for making too much noise. They then proceeded to celebrate their newfound relationship by raiding the free food table they passed on the way in, as you do.
> 
> Three more chapters of nerd fluff to go! Thanks for reading this far!


	12. Achievement Unlocked

FUTABA: achievement unlocked: successful date

REN: Awesome

FUTABA: so

FUTABA: i’m dating yusuke now

REN: I don’t remember that one being on your promise list

FUTABA: even just thinking it is super weird

FUTABA: but in a good way?

REN: Honestly what’s weird is you’re calling him by his name

FUTABA: i think i’m gonna save inari for when he’s being annoying

REN: Seriously I’m really happy for you

REN: I told you you had an 82% chance

FUTABA: with only one data point you can’t really claim your numbers are accurate

FUTABA: it may have been only a 1% chance that just happened to work out in this timeline

FUTABA: to get more data points, you’d have to either mindwipe both of us or reverse time

REN: How do you know I’m not doing that

FUTABA: please don’t mindwipe my boyfriend

FUTABA: he’s already absentminded enough

REN: True

REN: Haha, I just told Morgana, he thinks I’m kidding

REN: I showed him your texts because he doesn’t believe me

REN: He says he doesn’t understand at all but is glad you’re happy

FUTABA: aww tell him thanks

FUTABA: so do you have any advice about relationships

REN: I’m not sure my experience dating Makoto is really applicable

REN: And you already know to keep him fed

FUTABA: right

REN: I hope you like art

FUTABA: i think i’m learning to appreciate it

REN: Learning to appreciate art, or learning to appreciate Yusuke rambling about art

FUTABA: yes

REN: I think you’re going to be fine

—

FUTABA: ann you were right about the shirt and the painting

ANN: omg did he spill his feelings

FUTABA: he did

FUTABA: it was a critical hit to the feels that left me with one hp. nearly a TPK

FUTABA: but i recovered and charged my limit break

ANN: i don’t know what any of that means

FUTABA: i kissed him

ANN: omg!!!

ANN: so are you guys dating??

FUTABA: yeah! and i have no idea what i’m doing!

ANN: haha neither does he

ANN: listen you need to tell me ALL the details at lunch tomorrow

FUTABA: k

—

HARU: You’re welcome!

FUTABA: welcome for what?

HARU: For helping Yusuke, of course!

HARU: I had listen to a lot of pining, and shoot down some bad ideas, but the end results were worth it!

FUTABA: wait wait wait

FUTABA: you were helping yusuke? this whole time?

FUTABA: he could have just asked and we could have avoided all this

HARU: Doesn’t the same go for you?

FUTABA: we are such idiots

HARU: You’re not idiots! You just needed a little push.

HARU: This mission of Ren and Haru’s Shipping Society was a complete success!

FUTABA: wait, ren knew?

FUTABA: ren knew that yusuke wanted to date me, while he was helping me

FUTABA: and you knew that i wanted to date yusuke, while you were helping him

HARU: Didn’t Ren tell you you had a good chance?

FUTABA: i feel like maybe i should be mad or something but i can’t argue with you guys’ results

FUTABA: guess i’ll leave you a positive review on yelp

FUTABA: 5 stars, would let my friends hook me up with my other friend again

HARU: Our next mission is to help Mishima with that boy we’re pretty sure he has an eye on!

HARU: We could use extra eyes at Shujin if you want to help.

FUTABA: you’re getting mishima a boyfriend?

FUTABA: that sounds like a hilarious trainwreck

FUTABA: i’m so in

FUTABA: also, wait, you mentioned pining? i have to know

HARU: This was all told to me in strict confidence.

FUTABA: yeah, but PINING

HARU: There may have been poetry involved.

FUTABA: you HAVE TO SHOW ME THIS I NEED TO SEE THIS

HARU: Then it would be fine for Ren to share your pining too?

FUTABA: how dare you i did not pine

HARU: Is that so?

FUTABA: okay you know what i just scrolled back through my chat with ren and never mind

FUTABA: that is mutually assured destruction and i’m not touching it

HARU: That’s what I expected :)

—

MAKOTO: It seems a congratulations is in order.

FUTABA: haha thanks

MAKOTO: I had a feeling there was something going on between you two.

FUTABA: ren just told you didn’t he

MAKOTO: Okay, yes, Ren did tell me.

MAKOTO: But you still weren’t very convincing about the mysterious boy in your class.

FUTABA: yeah i know

MAKOTO: Don’t let this interfere with your schoolwork!

FUTABA: don’t worry, yusuke is a good study buddy

MAKOTO: Don’t let this interfere with HIS schoolwork either.

FUTABA: yes big sis

MAKOTO: You need to be ready for your entrance exams next year to ensure you get into a top college.

MAKOTO: I know you’ve been doing great so far, but it’s absolutely imperative that you keep up your grades and excel at your midterms.

MAKOTO: And now is the perfect time to start considering where you’re going to apply to next year.

MAKOTO: Also, has Yusuke talked to you about the art programs he’s supposed to be applying to?

MAKOTO: You need to make sure he gets in all his applications on time so he has the greatest chance at obtaining a scholarship.

MAKOTO: Some of those deadlines are in November so he doesn’t have a lot of time.

FUTABA: uh ok

MAKOTO: Other than that, have fun!

FUTABA: thanks makoto

—

RYUJI: futaba

RYUJI: omg

RYUJI: explain

FUTABA: explain what?

RYUJI: yusuke????

FUTABA: you want me to explain yusuke?

FUTABA: ryuji my sweet summer child

FUTABA: teams of scientists have labored tirelessly for years to try and explain the temporal anomaly that is yusuke kitagawa

RYUJI: thats not what i mean!!!

RYUJI: ann said youre dating now?

FUTABA: accurate

RYUJI: howd that happen

FUTABA: well

FUTABA: we were in a library

FUTABA: he told me that it’d be convenient to his schedule if we were dating

FUTABA: of course i was swept off my feet

RYUJI: is that true

RYUJI: i cant tell if youre kidding

FUTABA: basically

RYUJI: ok so

RYUJI: im happy for you

RYUJI: but why yusuke

FUTABA: hands, ryuji

FUTABA: delicate and precise artist’s hands

RYUJI: what

FUTABA: imagine what a boy can do with hands like that

RYUJI: NO NO NO

RYUJI: THIS IS NOT THE INFO I WANTED

FUTABA: looool

RYUJI: screw this, im just gonna ask yusuke what happened

FUTABA: do you think you’ll get better answers from him

RYUJI: im gonna ask ann

—

TOPIC: Changed to “Futaba and Yusuke are so cute <3” by HARU

FUTABA: haru NO

REN: haru YES

TOPIC: Changed to “haru goes to jail” by FUTABA

HARU: Aw, I can’t change the topic back. I get a permissions error.

FUTABA: you abuse it, you lose it

YUSUKE: I liked Haru’s topic.

FUTABA: NO

YUSUKE: You are indeed adorable, though.

FUTABA: aaidosfdmsopapojfdaiojfd

ANN: ahahahaha, amazing

FUTABA: inari i am going to load you into a rocket and fire you into the sun

MAKOTO: You probably shouldn’t launch your new boyfriend into space.

FUTABA: whatever, he’s already in space

YUSUKE: The surface of the sun is a fantastic idea for an abstract painting.

FUTABA: ooh yeah, the colors would be awesome

TOPIC: Changed to “futaba and yusuke are huge freakin nerds” by RYUJI

FUTABA: i’ll allow it

—

MAKOTO: So I saw a news story this morning about Kosei’s website being hacked.

MAKOTO: It was hacked to display embarrassing information about a couple of students at the school.

FUTABA: huh, i didn’t see that story

MAKOTO: The hacker used the alias Alibaba.

FUTABA: anyone can call themselves alibaba

MAKOTO: I looked it up, and the two boys were in Yusuke’s class.

FUTABA: weird

MAKOTO: Don’t do crimes for Yusuke!

FUTABA: that’s not a very phantom thief thing to say

MAKOTO: I don’t want you to go to jail.

FUTABA: pfft no one’s going to jail

FUTABA: i already put it back anyway

MAKOTO: Does Yusuke even know you did this?

FUTABA: of course not, he’s an innocent cinnamon roll

MAKOTO: Please don’t do this again.

FUTABA: okay, shoulder angel

—

REN: Did Makoto tell you not to do crimes for Yusuke

FUTABA: yes

REN: That’s not a very Phantom Thief thing to say

FUTABA: i know, that’s what i said

REN: As your leader, I say do crimes, just don’t get caught

FUTABA: okay, shoulder devil

—

FUTABA: okay so as awesome as the other day was, i’m still totally wiped

YUSUKE: Agreed.

FUTABA: that’s why i’m heading to your dorm with ghibli movies and snacks

YUSUKE: I can hardly imagine a more perfect evening.

FUTABA: i know right

FUTABA: <3

YUSUKE: <3


	13. Random Encounters

“Ugggh, school is so boring. How is it only Wednesday?” Ryuji groaned, slumping against his chair. Ann had to take care of an errand, so Futaba was eating lunch on the roof with just Ryuji today.

She stared down at her lunch. “I know, right? Can it be the weekend already?”

“Hey, wanna go to the arcade after school? Blow off some steam?”

“I already told Yusuke I’d study with him, sorry.” Ryuji looked down. “Uh, you can come study with us if you want…?”

“Man, I’ll pass on bein’ a third wheel.”

“…we actually are going to be studying, that’s not some euphemism.”

Ryuji shook his head. “I know that. It’s just…” 

“Is there something up?”

He took a deep breath. “When Ren was the first of us to get a girlfriend, I was like, yeah, of course. You don’t need to be into dudes to see that Ren has charm for miles. But I figured, you know, I’ll _definitely_ have a girlfriend before Yusuke, because — because, uh —“

“Because he’s an art obsessed weirdo?” she finished.

“Sorry, no offense.”

Futaba raised one eyebrow. “You think I somehow started dating him without realizing he’s an art obsessed weirdo?”

“Haha, nah. This is gonna sound really stupid, but seein’ you… and Ren last year… I want someone to do things with, y’know?”

“That’s not stupid! Have you told Haru? She has this whole shipping chart…”

“For real? Maybe I should ask her.”

“You know what they say, you can’t make an omelette without getting your axe-wielding friend to break a few eggs.”

“Okay, now you’re makin’ it sound terrifying.”

“Relationships _are_ terrifying, Ryuji. One day you’re living your normal life, then bam! a relationship comes along, and next thing you know you’re spending your evening pulling your boyfriend out of the fishing pond.”

“…wait, wait, I never heard about this.”

“Oh, he was trying to get the lighting just right and fell backwards off the dock. What I’m trying to say is that if even a hermit like me can find someone, I’m sure there’s someone out there for you. Someone who will hijack your brain with their cuteness and diminish your productivity in exchange for complicated emotions you can’t understand but still enjoy having.” Ryuji was staring at her with wide eyes. “It’s awesome,” she added sincerely, “I recommend it.”

“I’ll, uh, take your word on that.”

—

It was a lazy Monday evening. Futaba working on the game she was developing, curled up next to Yusuke at their usual table, when the cafe door opened with such force they were both startled. 

Futaba wasn’t sure how a person could _politely_ storm into the room, but Haru somehow managed. “Hello Futaba, Yusuke,” she said, her voice tired, sitting across from them with a small huff. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you. I just… needed to get out for a bit.”

“Not at all,” said Yusuke. 

“Uh, what’s up though?” she added. “You seem really upset.”

“A tough day at the office, I suppose,” she said, pulling a thick stack of documents out of her bag and laying them out on the table. She smiled, but still looked obviously downtrodden. “There’s nothing to worry about, I’m fine.”

Futaba and Yusuke shared a Look. She enlarged the font on her computer, wrote a message, and nudged him to look at it.

> ok haru is obviously not fine  
> we need to do something for her

Yusuke wrote in the margin of his sketchbook, tilting it slightly so she could see.

_I agree, what did you have in mind?_

> let’s invite her out for junk food! :D

_That is always a solid plan._

“Hey, Haru?” Haru looked up and Futaba could see red around her eyes, as though she had been crying. “You wanna go get some ice cream? My treat.”

Haru sighed. “I’d love to, but I should really go over these documents before a meeting I have in a couple days.”

She went back to reading, and Futaba and Yusuke both wrote messages at the same time.

> nope nope nope  
> we gotta help her

_That won’t do. We must convince her._

> we’re gonna have to kidnap her

_I’m not sure I follow._

> on the count of three sit next to her

“One… two…” Haru looked up in confusion as Futaba counted. “Three!” On cue, Yusuke got up and sat next to her on one side while Futaba ducked under the table and popped up next to her on the other side.

Haru was surrounded. “What are you doing?”

“We’re kidnapping you!” Futaba declared.

“You’re clearly in no state to be reading documents. You won’t retain very much while you’re this upset.”

“Which is why we demand that you come with us and do something fun!”

Haru stared down at her papers for a second, then looked up with a much more genuine smile than she had before. “You’re right! I’m sick and tired of this boring corporate… BS!” she said, blushing slightly.

“That’s the spirit! Down with the man!” Futaba cheered. 

Sojiro rolled his eyes at them from behind the counter. “You kids mind keeping it down a bit while you’re smashing the corporate system? Thanks.”

“Sorry, Sojiro.”

“And if you’re going somewhere, could you move your things out of the booth? I occasionally like to use that for customers, you know.”

“Of course, Boss.”

—

“Ooh, I have a blue turtle shell! What does this do?”

“Aah, don’t throw that, Haru!”

“Too late! Hahaha!”

“I don’t understand why I keep being captured by this cloud with a fishing pole. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Uh, yeah, you’re driving off the road, Yusuke.”

Once Haru had acquiesced to her kidnapping, she surprisingly insisted they go to the arcade. She and Futaba had played several rounds of fighting games, Haru showing little of the finesse she had displayed before, instead preferring to wildly mash attacks. Futaba attempted to block, but mostly let her win. It seemed to be improving Haru’s mood, and that was the important part.

When they had their fill of fighting, she had talked Yusuke into joining them on the Mario Kart machines. Haru was doing okay considering she had only ever played once before. Yusuke… was not. Futaba finished the race in second (after being hit with a blue shell at a bad moment, thanks to Haru) and then watched as Yusuke somehow managed to drive everywhere _but_ the road.

He was trying something new, and something she had asked him to do, so she was honestly trying not to laugh. He was making that really difficult with his look of intense concentration and quiet cursing under his breath as he continuously drove Rosalina off of cliffs.

Mercifully, the race ended before he had to finish all three laps. He turned to Futaba and said, “It seems as though that could have gone better.”

Futaba ruffled his hair. “It was your first time playing! Maybe, with a lot of practice… you could actually stay on the road for more than two seconds.” A giggle escaped her and Yusuke fixed her with a mock glare.

“That was fun!” said Haru brightly. “Let’s play again!”

Futaba got up from her seat and perched next to Yusuke’s before he could protest. “I’m helping you. You need it.”

Yusuke rolled his eyes but obligingly took the steering wheel again. “Very well.”

“Okay, hit the accelerator… now! No, faster! Why do you drive like a grandma? Okay, you… you’re turning way too sharply. Gently! Follow the road! Okay, now hit that guy with the shell! Yeah!” Futaba bounced up and down as Yusuke somehow made it all the way around the track, eventually managing to come in seventh.

“You did it!” she shouted, hugging him around the shoulders.

“I’m not convinced that seventh place counts as a victory, but I suppose it was an improvement.”

Three phones buzzed near-simultaneously.

ANN: ryuji and i are headed to the diner, anyone wanna come

RYUJI: sooooo huuuuuungry

Haru looked up from her phone, her earlier distress mostly wiped from her face. “Let’s go meet them!”

FUTABA: we’re on our way

ANN: you and yusuke?

FUTABA: and haru too!

HARU: :)

ANN: cool, see you in a few!

—

Four days straight of exams had drained everything from Futaba. She felt she had probably done fine on them, but she felt like a wrung-out washcloth. Now that they were over, she just wanted to go home and collapse on her bed.

Or, actually, a better option. She hopped on the train, walked to Kosei in an exam-induced daze, entered the dorms (waving tiredly at the desk worker), opened Yusuke’s door and collapsed on _his_ bed.

He barely looked up from what he was drawing. “Was it a rough day of exams?” His own exams had finished two days ago.

“Ugh, yes. I mean — I probably did okay. I’m just tired. And bored.”

Yusuke stood from his chair and went to join her on the futon, but stopped short, clearly trying to work out where he would sit when she was stubbornly taking up the entire thing. He settled for picking up her head, sitting down, and setting her head back down in his lap, which suited Futaba just fine.

“We should celebrate the end of exams!” she said, looking up at him.

“I thought you were tired…?”

“Tired _and bored._ I’m totally fried from looking at nothing but boring exam papers for days. I need something that’s… the polar opposite of boring exam papers.”

“How about the park, then?”

“The park is _outside._ ”

“Yes, that’s why I suggested it. The opposite of sitting in a classroom and taking exams is spending time in nature.”

“Outside is dangerous, Yusuke. We could get eaten by bears. Or carried off by bats!”

“They’d have to be abnormally large bats.”

“Yeah, bats the size of cars,” she agreed.

“Bats the size of cars in Inokashira Park?”

“I’m pretty sure I saw that on the news.”

“At any rate, if we take a walk in the park I promise to protect you from bats of any size.”

Futaba nodded. “The six-foot-tall monster bats will be no match for a starving art student armed with a pencil. Let’s go!”

—

Yusuke was right, Futaba admitted to herself but not to Yusuke. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, with a mild chill in the air and the setting sun streaming through the leaves of the trees. Taking a late afternoon walk in the park, hand in hand with her boyfriend — it was almost surreal how ordinary this situation was, given that just a year and a half ago she’d thought she’d die alone in her room.

She remembered that day in the summer when she had felt so sad all of a sudden because she didn’t want it to end. There was that same feeling again.

Yusuke picked up on her change of mood. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, this is… really nice, actually,” she smiled. “This is going to sound really silly, but it’s like I can’t be happy any more without being a little sad, ‘cause everything goes by so quickly.”

“I know precisely what you mean. That’s one of the things that draws me to the creation of art — it allows me to capture a feeling or a moment in a more permanent form that I can share with others.”

“That makes sense. I wish I had something like that.”

“Weren’t you making a game? Couldn’t you express yourself in that way?”

The wheels turned in Futaba’s head. “I guess… I wasn’t really going to make a visual novel or anything like that. It’s more of a puzzley roguelike.”

“Roguelike was… the sort of game where you die repeatedly and come back differently each time?” Futaba nodded, always a little pleased when he remembered details of the game she was working on. “If you wish to express the idea that time is fleeting, your choice of genre seems well-suited.”

“I never really thought of it that way. Huh.”

“I would be interested in trying your game once you have finished.”

“Really?” Futaba grinned.

“I could hardly be worse at it than I was at that cartoon racing game.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true.”

—

MAKOTO: Futaba, are you interested in getting lunch?

FUTABA: definitely, but can you give me like a half hour

FUTABA: kind of in the middle of something

MAKOTO: Oh? What are you up to?

FUTABA: shujin has a halloween party this year

FUTABA: not sure why, they’ve apparently never done it before

FUTABA: so anyway, i’m taking yusuke and we gotta make costumes

MAKOTO: You’re making Halloween costumes?

MAKOTO: I didn’t know you could sew!

FUTABA: i used to do cosplay in middle school

FUTABA: was kind of thinking of getting back into it again

FUTABA: it turns out yusuke is really good at sewing?

MAKOTO: I don’t find that the least bit surprising.

MAKOTO: What are you going as?

FUTABA: david bowie

MAKOTO: What is he going as?

FUTABA: a different david bowie

FUTABA: double bowies

MAKOTO: That’s very creative.

FUTABA: gtg

FUTABA: yusuke burned himself on hot glue and he’s being super dramatic about it

MAKOTO: All right, see you in a bit.


	14. Night Sky

She was running through a Palace — she wasn’t sure which one, it kept melting and shifting under her feet — and it was _hot_. Oppressively, unbearably hot. She was trying to keep up with the group, but she running on fumes in a way she couldn’t ever remember feeling before. It was as if the unearthly heat had sucked all the energy from her body and she could barely stay upright. Usually when a member of the team was struggling like she was, Joker noticed and called it a day. But they were so far from the last safe room, and no other safe room was in sight.

Joker carelessly turned a corner without looking and was ambushed by Shadows, the whole team surrounded in an instant. Oracle summoned her Persona, reached for Position Hack — where were the controls? — they were sliding under her vision and she was so dizzy —

It was too late, one of the Shadows had cast Mahamaon before she had a chance to turn the tables. There was a bright flash of light and a sick crack, and somehow her entire team was dead on the floor. She was the only one left standing. The Shadows were turning to her with red, hungry eyes. She turned and ran but was so dizzy she fell —

“Futaba.”

It was Yusuke, how was it Yusuke, she saw him die and it was all her fault — 

“Futaba, you’re having a nightmare.”

She opened her eyes. She was absolutely drenched in sweat, lying on her futon with her covers bunched up awkwardly all around. She thought she must look like hell, and the deeply concerned look on Yusuke’s face confirmed that she probably did.

“I take it you aren’t feeling any better.”

“No,” said Futaba, sitting up with considerable effort. “I’m still running a fever and my head hurts.”

“I brought you soup,” he said, pulling out a plastic container from his school bag. 

Futaba was still pretty out of it and for a minute looked at the container as though it were a puzzle in an adventure game.

“It’s soup,” he tried again, “you should eat it.”

She laughed, and her sore throat made it come out rough. “If _you’re_ telling _me_ I need to eat, things must be pretty bad,” she said, taking the container of soup from him. She opened it, and it was still fairly warm and smelled good. The container had a plastic spoon attached to it that she popped off, but then hesitated. “I’m not going to just sit and eat without you.”

“Indeed. That’s why I brought some for me as well,” he said, pulling a second container out of his bag. He settled down on her futon, so she snuggled next to him and started eating her soup.

“Yusuke, aren’t you worried you’ll get sick? I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I believe I’m fairly resilient. I haven’t been sick in years.”

Futaba wasn’t sure how resilient she thought Yusuke’s health was, but decided not to press him on it because she wanted him to stay. “I’m glad you showed up when you did. That nightmare was the worst.”

“What was it about?”

“We were back in a Palace. I failed a Position Hack and the whole team got Hama’d.”

Yusuke considered this. “Hama wasn’t actually that bad.”

Futaba was skeptical. “It’s an _instant death_ spell, how was it not that bad? What was it like?”

“Hama? It was like seeing a bright light, and if it hits you, you just… want to close your eyes and collapse,” he said, making vague gestures with his spoon. “Mudo was much worse — that was like having your organs liquified while filthy hands pulled you into the earth.” He shuddered.

“Yikes,” she said. They finished eating their soup. “Thanks for bringing by soup. I feel a little better now.”

“I can go, if you’d like to get back to sleep. Or I could stay for a bit.”

“Stay a little, please,” she said, snuggling closer.

“Very well. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Draw something for me?”

He nodded and pulled his sketchbook and pencils from his bag, opening the book to a blank page and drawing the structure of a person.

“It’s me,” she said happily as he filled in more details. His breathing was deep and even, and the scratching of his pencil was so soft, she could just…

…when she next opened her eyes it took her a minute to realize where she was. She had apparently fallen asleep with her head in Yusuke’s lap, and his sketchbook was resting gently on the side of her head while he drew. She might have been annoyed by that if it weren’t such a very Yusuke thing to do. Instead of disturbing his drawing by moving, she made a soft noise so he’d hear.

The sketchbook lifted from her head. “Oh, you’re awake.”

“How long was I asleep? Did you finish your drawing of me?”

“A while, and yes,” he said, flipping to a different page as she sat up. He showed her the completed picture of herself as Oracle, surrounded by control panels, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “I have depicted you performing a Position Hack in time so no one is hit by any instant death spells.”

“I love it! What were you drawing just now though?" 

He showed her. It was something like an abstract starburst filled with intricate lines. “I was thinking about your dream, and decided that perhaps I could paint what it’s like to experience something like the spells in the Metaverse. I tried drawing a study for it, but I believe it requires color to work. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” she said, yawning.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” she said, burrowing back under the covers of her futon. “I should get back to sleep. Thanks for keeping me company.” 

“No trouble at all,” he said, standing up. “Hopefully you’ll be back to full health soon.”

“I just hope I didn’t get you sick.”

—

Futaba was half-supporting a very dizzy and disoriented Yusuke as they walked to his dorm room. Normally she didn’t mind that he was so tall, but at the moment his height was extremely inconvenient. “I can’t believe you tried to paint when you’re that sick. No, scratch that, I totally believe you tried to paint when you’re that sick.”

“I’m merely dehydrated. I would have been fine in a few minutes.”

“You were nearly keeled over on your easel! You’re lucky I stopped by to visit. What happened to being resilient?”

“Clearly, your infection was some manner of death flu that bypassed my usual defenses.”

“Yeah, sorry for being patient zero for the world ending plague. And also for getting you sick. Anyway, we’re getting you to bed.”

“I really do need to paint, though.”

“What, for school? They’ll give you an extension when they see how sick you are.”

“But if I have to wait too long to put my ideas to canvas, I’ll lose my burst of inspiration,” he said.

Futaba looked the other way before rolling her eyes.

“I can tell you’re rolling your eyes.”

“ _You’re_ going to _bed_ ,” said Futaba. “No painting until you’re not running a fever.” 

“Very well, _Morgana._ ”

—

It was an unseasonably cold day in November, and Futaba and Yusuke were taking a walk in the park. Futaba hadn’t anticipated it being so cold, so she was clinging to his arm (which didn’t help much, since he didn’t seem to have a whole lot of body heat in general) and drinking a steaming hot latte. He was wearing a thin coat that looked worn, and Futaba made a mental note to prod him into getting a warmer coat this year. Then again, he didn’t seem to mind the cold that much. She suspected that ice resistance in the Metaverse actually kind of worked in real life, but she didn’t think her friends would appreciate it if she tested her hypothesis by, say, setting Ann on fire or electrocuting Ryuji. 

They sat on a too-cold bench, drinking coffee and watching the people go by. Futaba could tell that Yusuke was about to say something so she stayed quiet and waited.

“So… several of my teachers have been talking to me about, well, my future. As an artist.”

Futaba’s gut clenched slightly. Yusuke was a third year, and she was only second. Losing Ren last year had been bad enough, and she really didn’t want to think about losing her boyfriend this year.

“It seems that I have a number of good options for further schooling, and scholarships may be possible. If not, I suppose I’ll have to take on student loans and subsist on instant ramen."

“That doesn’t seem too different from now.” 

“I suppose not, no.” He looked at her as though he were about to try and gauge her reaction. “All of the opportunities I’ve been considering are in Tokyo, so it’s unlikely I’ll be leaving the city anytime — oof!”

Futaba had hugged him hard enough to knock the breath out of him. “Good. You stay.”

“Very well.” He ran his hand through her hair fondly. “It appears you’re stuck with me for the time being. You may have to take a different train to see me, though.”

“That sounds like effort. Maybe _you_ could take a different train to see _me_.”

“That works as well.”

Futaba sighed contentedly as Yusuke stroked her hair. Maybe next year could actually be as good as this one.

“Futaba, have you given any thought to what you want to do after high school?”

“Geez, Inari, way to ruin the mood.”

—

TOPIC: Changed to “critical philosophical discussions” by FUTABA

FUTABA: i have something really important to ask you guys

FUTABA: mostly ren but anyone else is free to take my side on this

FUTABA: free will is an illusion, right

MAKOTO: Where is this coming from?

YUSUKE: It most certainly is not. If free will were an illusion, our lives would be meaningless.

FUTABA: our thoughts are caused by chemicals in our brains though! we don’t have control over that!

ANN: oh my god people are starting to stare!!!

REN: What are you guys even doing

ANN: we’re at the diner and they have been arguing about this for THIRTY MINUTES

ANN: and not quietly, the other people are looking at us like we’re weirdos

YUSUKE: The nature of free will is a matter of supreme importance, Ann.

REN: After what we’ve seen in the Palaces, I’m not sure that free will actually exists.

FUTABA: YES, EXACTLY

YUSUKE: Betrayal…!

ANN: why are you encouraging them!

RYUJI: would you two just shut up and kiss

MAKOTO: Unfortunately that never stops them.

YUSUKE: Makoto is correct in this regard.

FUTABA: shut it, inari

YUSUKE: If free will is an illusion, as you assert, I can’t be held responsible for what I say.

FUTABA: oh my gooooood

FUTABA: i can’t be held responsible for your FACE

YUSUKE: I thought you enjoyed my face.

FUTABA: of course i do, that’s not the point

ANN: ren help

REN: Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of not being in Tokyo right now

REN: I do miss you guys though

REN: Looks like I might be able to visit sometime after Christmas

ANN: yay!

MAKOTO: I’m so excited!

FUTABA: yeeeeeeeees

RYUJI: hell yeah!!!

HARU: That’s great news!

YUSUKE: Most excellent.

—

And then it was just a few days before Christmas, and Futaba was taking the train home. Haru had invited her, Ann and Makoto to a girls’ Christmas sleepover at her house, and they all had jumped at the chance — even Makoto, who was so busy these days they hardly ever got to see her.

Haru’s house was extravagant, to say the least, and they had spent most of Saturday evening lounging around Haru’s huge bedroom, talking. Haru painted Futaba’s nails sparkly red and green for Christmas. Makoto agonized over the fact that she hadn’t come up with the perfect gift for Ren yet and she was nearly out of time. Futaba showed them her gift for Yusuke — a dark blue, leather bound refillable sketchbook with a traditional Japanese fox on it. They discussed their recent failure to hook Mishima up with a boyfriend and what they would do differently next time (a conversation Makoto wanted no part of, since she didn’t seem to understand the appeal of shipping their friends).

The next day, they went out Christmas shopping. Futaba had bought most of her presents online already, but she found a couple of small things, including a cute hair clip for Ann and a keychain with Kirby with little artist’s hat and paintbrush. After shopping, they went for hot pot, and after hot pot, they went for desserts at a nearby cake shop. As they headed to the cake shop, she noticed Haru showing Makoto something on her phone and the two of them whispering back and forth, but decided not to pry.

Now she was finally on the train back home, and she was so dead tired that she went straight home instead of stopping by Leblanc first. As she entered and walked down the hallway, she noticed that not only was her door open, but the hallway smelled like paint. And not a little bit like paint like when Yusuke dropped by after spending a day in the studio, a _whole lot_ like paint.

When she entered her room, the first thing she noticed was that all of her things were covered in plastic sheeting.

The second thing she noticed was the breathtaking mural of a night sky freshly painted on her ceiling. It was a deep black and purple filled with stars and swirling galaxies and, in the corner near her bed, a black-and-green UFO that looked just like her original Persona, Necronomicon.

The third thing she noticed was the artist slumped over in her computer chair, fast asleep.

She shook him gently. “Yusuke. Yusuke, wake up.”

“Hm — Futaba?” came the bleary reply.  “Oh!” he said, suddenly sitting up. “It’s not finished yet! You’re not supposed to see it.”

“It’s a little too late for that. It’s beautiful, Yusuke.”

“You… you like it, then? Truly?” he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He had black and purple paint splotches all over his face and hands. He was usually much more fastidious about not getting paint on himself — after all, it was a waste of good paint — but then, he also didn’t usually paint on a ceiling.

“Of course I do! It’s amazing!”

“It’s your Christmas present — part of your Christmas present. You were telling me about how you sometimes have nightmares and wake up wanting to verify that your friends still exist. I thought… you could look up at your ceiling, and immediately ascertain that I both exist and care about you a great deal.”

Futaba was dying. “That’s both the sappiest and sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. I could kiss you.”

“I honestly don’t understand why you aren’t,” he said, looking terribly pleased with himself.

So she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my story! It's the first time I've posted a story on the internet, so all the kind comments and kudos mean a lot to me. Thank you!


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